A Demon in the Mist
by N. Blackman
Summary: Angels and Demons, she thinks them, fighting for the right to rule. Nothing like that night at the Ministry, these are trained warriors, not desperate escapees. This story takes place just before sixth book, A/U. Similar to CITM, but different storyline and ending. Bellamione.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Caught in the Mist, it has similar premise, however it doesn't have the same ending. If you haven't read CITM then don't worry it's not needed. This story is A/U just before the sixth book during the school holiday. More will be revealed as the story continues.

So you know guys, I've been gone for a while, technically I am retired still from Fanfiction but this has been bugging me and I can no longer hide under a different fanfiction profile. In all honesty, the amount of attention my other stories got is both amazing but daunting. It became a bit much so I stepped back, never the less Harry Potter calls to me. I have new ideas I'm just wonder are there any Bellamione fans left or have you all gone?

 **Warning:** this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for over adults.

 **Disclaimer** : No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 ** _Caught in the Mist_**

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I wonder if you know what has happened, how much did the Order tell you? Maybe at this stage, you don't know everything, I think that may be for the best. Perhaps you find it amusing the only items I managed to keep with me is a scroll and quill. Even at times like this, I manage to keep a book as well, I wish though, I had more._

 _The sad thing is, I don't think you will receive this letter. I fear it will_ _vanish to_ _be forgotten, never found again. I try not to let my mind dwell on this, I keep telling myself I will be back at Hogwarts in time for the new term. A part of me wonders why they allow me this luxury, why I'm allowed to write, maybe they know I'm not coming back._

 _For years you know I always wondered why I was sorted into Gryffindor. You always managed to reassure me, always found a reason why, but now. The truth is. I'm scared, I am so, very scared. I don't know where we're going, where we are or what is happening. I'm not allowed my wand, I'm only allowed food and water._

 _Please don't worry the others, don't worry Ron or Ginny, I will be home soon, I'm sure. I'll think of a way. I love you, you're the brother I wish I had, I'm coming home soon. I promise, just keep going defeat you know who. End this._

 _With all my love,_

 _Hermione._

Through the haze of smoke, she watches silently as the fire crackles, spitting into the dark night of the forest. The pressure inside her chest has become unbearable, the urge to cry is over powering. Still, she remains emotionless, a coldness creeping in despite the charm to keep them warm.

The smoke spirals upwards, the smell clinging to her jacket, a jacket that is not her own. She is under no illusion the person who once owned the jacket is dead, she wonders if it's an omen. A promise of her future to come, wearing a dead man's jacket. She hates Trelawney with a passion, but even she can admit there is a chill in the air. An omen lingering on her shoulders

As a child, she loved bonfires, bbqs but hated the smell of smoke, always first to shower, to throw her washing in the machine. Her mother watching fondly as she cleaned her own clothes, if she were a Griffindor through and through she would ask her mother. Why the sad smile? Why did she look with regret quickly hidden by amusement? Was it to do with the fire they had when she was younger? When she was barely old enough to stand, the fire that crippled her grandfather? Absently, she wonders if she will ever get the chance to ask?

A loud crack echoes throughout the deadly quiet forest, no birds or creatures to speak off. A niggling fear prickles the back of her neck the urge to turn and look almost unbearable. The feeling of eyes on her, she refuses to look, refuses to give in to the fear.

The dried blood on her chin has become uncomfortable, nothing in comparison to the ache from her split lip. The urge to wipe the blood has become the constant fight to ignore it for as long as possible. If she wipes the blood away, this will all become real the last several hours will become real. She will no longer be able to pretend it is all a bad nightmare. To pretend the monster sleeping a few feet away is just figment of her imagination. If she tries hard enough, she can believe anything, if she were a Gryffindor she wouldn't hide. But she always suspected the hat was wrong because all she can feel right now is agonising fear. Fear so crippling, she can barely breath. She wants nothing more than to hug her mother, cry and to wake from this nightmare. She is the brightest witch of her age though, Hermione Granger trapped in a forest with a creature that was once human and a forest full of monsters. Still, she feels the charm protecting them is not for their benefit, because the monster is sleeping peacefully only a few feet away, a small smile on their face despite the devastation left in their wake.

 _Several Hours earlier…_

She was not the target, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. A tour around the Ministry, distracted by Tonks and her whole life changed in a matter of seconds. They were searching through the woods, Tonks had lost something her Auror friends helping search. They are going to head to the nearby village for a drink afterwards. Tonks had promised to drop Hermione home, not allowing the witch to Apparate alone, despite having a license and being old enough.

Hermione didn't argue it's boring at home, she has read every book expected for their next term, waiting for the day she could go to the burrow. Waiting to see the boys, wondering if Harry was okay and the Dursleys were looking after him. Wondering how he is feeling after Sirius death, hoping he is coping.

There was no warning, the sky ripped apart, a terrifying light blinding her momentarily. She stumbles into a tree, finding cover, just in time. Opening her eyes to the shouting, the chaos of fighting, Death Eaters. Spells dance through the air with frightening speed, clashing and crashing together. Angels and Demons, she thinks them, fighting for the right to rule. Nothing like that night at the Ministry, these are trained warriors, not desperate escapees.

She pulls her wand shakily from it's hiding place, stepping from cover, ready to face the masked demons, ready to help. When a hand grabs her arm, a red faced Tonks, cut lacings her eye brow. Hermione has never seen the witch so… full of life. Adrenalized by the fight, Tonks is talking but, Hermione's ears are ringing.

Seconds later they're moving, Tonks's hand pulling Hermione along, but not towards the fight. Leading her away, from the hill and the showering of spells. Towards the safety in the distance, Tonks never releasing her hold, never stopping but still talking.

"We can't!" Hermione forces her voice to work, her mind slowly catching up. "We cannot leave them!"

"My job is to keep you safe. Now move, they cannot find you here, your too valuable."

More valuable than any Auror? She fails to believe it, no one is more important than another. She wouldn't just leave Tonks people, she couldn't let Tonks leave her colleagues. If she must Hermione will find her own way home. If she is not allowed to fight the least she can do is release Tonks from her burden. To allow the Auror to return to the battle.

The hot summers night breaks apart with the crash of thunder, the rain breaking from the clouds, drenching them all instantly. Her clothes dragging her down, the mud sucking at their feet, their retreat hindered by the storm.

Yanking her arm free, Hermione prepares her speech, as Tonks whirls on her. Annoyed, Tonks runs a hand through her hair, pushing it from her face, lines of worry etched near her eyes.

"Mione'." Tonks groans.

"We can't leave, Tonks, they're your people. Let me go, you can help…"

"Shush."

"Tonks." Hermione protests, as Tonks views their surroundings.

"NO! Shush, get behind a tree, now."

Not questioning, Hermione slinks behind a tree, as Tonks casts a spell, she nods her head in reassurance. Inching closer to the open she eyes the tree line. Clutching the bark of the tree, Hermione watches, wondering what Tonks has heard. Turning, back to Hermione, Tonks shrugs her spells not detecting anyone nearby.

Neither of them anticipates the next few minutes that change everything. Tonks wand lifting in slow motion, Hermione watching with her breath stuck in her throat, unable to break the spell they seem to be stuck in. The curse strikes Tonks straight on the chest sending the witch hurtling backwards. Hermione's mind flashes back to the shock on Sirius's face moments before he fell through the veil.

The breath breaks from her mouth as Tonks hits the muddy ground, rain pelting her limp form. Breathless, Hermione stares at Tonks praying that the witch is still alive. Turning she searches for the attacker, her heart jamming to a stop at the sight as a Death Eater emerges from the shadows.

A cruel laugh echoes loudly as though a force of nature on it's own. It rebounds in Hemione's mind resonating, freezing her blood and turning her urge to fight in to a motion to flee. It's a sound she wished to never hear again, the black insane curls untouched by the rain emerges first. Immaculate dress and corset untouched by the dirt around them swallows the remaining light. A sadistic smile grazing cruel lips, dark untouchable eyes focussing on the Tonks on the ground.

"What do we have here?" They taunt. "My dear niece just what I wanted to find."

Terror strikes Hermione still, pressing her back against the tree, hiding her from view. Her hands shake as Sirius's death replays on repeat in her mind. Peeking, Hermione watches a boot nudge Tonks's arm. A sadistic smile lacing pale lips.

 _Do something, I have to do something._ She wants to, wants to run to Tonks's rescue, but she cannot take the Death Eater in a duel. A plan forms, she has no one to tell it to, no boys to tell her it's crazy, but it's the best plan she has. A distraction so she can save Tonks and run.

With a complicated flourish of her wand, she whispers the spell, pointing straight at the Death Eater. Smiling, Hermione watches the ground kick dirt, as the spell hurtles along with the force of a tornado. It gathers, momentum as it clashes with the barrier protecting the witch who stumbles back. Mud and rain pelting the shield, blinding the witch from Hermione.

Darting from cover, Hermione runs past the tornado attacking the Death Eater. Clutching, Tonks's face Hermione presses her wand next to the Auror's temple.

"Rennervate."

Jolting, Tonks snaps awake. staring at Hermione groggily. Eyes falling to the Death Eater currently under attack from a freak storm.

"We need to go now." Hermione orders. "It won't last long."

Nodding, Tonks crawls to her feet, wobbly, Hermione helps the witch along. Glancing behind to find the Death Eater glaring at them. Urging Tonks along, Hermione tries to ignore the fear itching beneath her skin. Ignores the scream of anger, as the air explodes with magic, mud drenching their backs. Tonks casting a protection charm they head for the safety of the forest, past the appariation barrier.

It's the sharp lacing pain in her shoulder, that warns her that her plan has failed, as a hand pulls her away from Tonks. Her face hits the muddy ground, hears the gasp of pain from Tonks. Pushing from the ground, Hermione jumps to her feet, wiping the dirt from her face.

"Ah dear Aunt," Tonks greets prepared for a duel. "What do I owe the honour?"

A short cackle, as Bellatrix stalks both of them, the Death Eater outnumbered, yet Hermione feels they are at a disadvantage. They are the ones at risk, not Bellatrix Lestrange who appears to be enjoying the whole situation.

"I came for you, thought we could spend some quality time together." Bellatrix grins, gaze disregarding Tonks and turning to Hermione. "However, your friend appears more interesting."

Almost as though a bolt strikes her, Tonks turns worried eyes to Hermione, renewed with a sense of protectiveness. Stepping in front of Hermione, Tonks stares her aunt down who seems merely amused by the whole situation. The curved wand rolling between long fingers, boots squish in the mud as Bellatrix circles.

"If you see an opportunity, head for safety don't argue." Tonks hisses, eyes solely focussed on Bellatrix.

"Nymph."

"We can't win this, we can only run. I'll be right behind you."

Doubt festers, Hermione not believing the witch, knows that Tonks is willing to sacrifice herself. They wouldn't even be here If Hermione hadn't asked to see the witch. She clutches her own wand, she cannot allow Tonks to sacrifice herself. Cannot allow this demon to win, not after she killed Sirius, killed Hermione's friend.

Bellatrix's lips twitch, a spell unleashed, weak it hits Tonks's defence fizzling away to nothing. Another follows and Hermione realises Bellatrix is testing Tonks defence, looking for a weakness. Realising this too, Tonks attacks, she lashes out her stunning spell reflected with a casual swish of the hand.

"You were at the Ministry, weren't you?" Bellatrix voice breaks the tension eyes focused solely on Hermione. "Potter's mudblood."

Flinching at the slur, Hermione almost recoils at the amount of disgust that rolls of Bellatrix, but the word said with casual indifference. It's a conundrum, she almost misses Draco, at least he showed emotion, to Bellatrix the statement feels more of a fact. A casual reminder of her blood status, that she is the lowest of the low.

A flash of yellow breaks through the air, cutting the droplets of rain into nothingness, it strikes Tonks shield. Shoes sinking into the mud from the force, a manic grin inches across Bellatrix's face. Sweating, Tonks holds the attack hand shaking under the force of the spell.

"Stupefy!" Hermione shouts, her spell narrowly missing Bellatrix who steps aside.

"Hermione!" Tonks snaps.

She knows, she is meant to be running, but not now. Dodging the hex, Hermione steps aside, the spell hitting a tree. Tonks attacks, engaging Bellatrix, who easily deflects. Joining in, Hermione tries to keep up with the two witches, the spells clashing in the night. The sky dancing with horrifying colours, red blending with purple. White ghosting across the ground, Bellatrix moves with the skill of duellist.

Sweat dripping down her spine, Hermione feels her stamina failing her. A strong hex forces her backwards, her defence nothing against Bellatrix casual attacks.

"Did I hurt the widdle Muddy's feelings?" Bellatrix taunts her spell clipping the tree next to Tonks's head. "What's wrong dear niece, sad? How's dear Sirius… Oh yes, he's dead."

A yell leaves Tonks lips, her foot slipping in the mud, however, her spell never faulters. It leaves with such force even Hermione jumps aside as Bellatrix reflects. A nearby tree explodes bark hitting them all. It's this moment Hermione realises their mistake, watches the cruel smile manifest. Tonks panting, several feet away, Bellatrix has managed to divide them. To get between them, a look of disbelief crosses Tonks face as she catches Hermione eye over Bellatrix's shoulder.

"Run!" Tonks orders, releasing another spell.

Hermione doesn't wait to be told twice, she turns running for the distant tree line. Shivering at the intensity of the fight behind her, relief floods her as she spots the trees. As her feet touch the grass, she doesn't look back.

"Hermione!"

An arm wraps around her throat, choking, her feet slip on the wet grass. The forearm tightening, she sees stars. A hand snatching her wand, she grasps at the arm binding her to the cold body behind. Lifted from the ground, she finds herself turning against her will, back to the open. Flinches as a spell hurtles towards them, Bellatrix reflects it back catching Tonks on the side. The witch tumbling to her knees.

"Tonks!" Hermione gasps air failing her.

Her elbow moves back on it's own will striking the witch in the ribs. A small flinch is the only indication it makes contact. The Death Eater refuses to let go, a slight tighten on her throat warns her not to try again.

"Now what dear Niece?" Bellatrix taunts.

Hermione grows still as the curved wand presses to her neck. The arm loosening, she sucks in air, spluttering as her lungs struggle with the increase of oxygen. Frozen, Tonks stares unsure how to act, her decision is made for her. The sound of approaching voices, more Death Eaters heading their way.

"Go." Hermione croaks.

"Run, little one, run away." Bellatrix mocks.

"Hermione, I'll be back," Tonks promises.

Smiling, Hermione watches Tonks turn for safety, disappearing into the tree line leaving Hermione trapped in the demon's arms. Closing her eyes, she waits, waits for the others to join them, for the savagery to start. Can only imagine the torture she is to endure.

Hands drag her backwards, her feet tripping over themselves, as Bellatrix pulls her into the darkness of the trees. Hidden, wand still tight against her neck it pulls away. The tip lighting up, a spell released under silence. Confused, Hermione doesn't resist as the wand touches her flesh once more. Is she going to be a surprise for the Death Eaters? Is Bellatrix waiting on someone else?

Heart beating uncontrollably as the sound of others get louder, the masks glinting through the trees. She tries to ignore the shake and the panic attack setting in. She feels faint, cold and confused, she clutches the arm holding her in place.

"Breathe," Bellatrix hisses against her ear startling her. "Breathe girl, good. Now be a good mudblood, stay quiet and don't move."

Greyback crashes into the clearing making Hermione jump and the arm tighten around her neck. She watches as the Death Eaters emerge, chatting amongst themselves. A few remove their masks, laughing, Hermione refuses the urge to throw up at the sight of blood on their robes. They watch silently as the group banter between themselves.

Growing still, Bellatrix pulls her wand from Hermione's throat. This is it, she is going to be thrown in front of the others. A trophy of sorts, perhaps Bellatrix wishes to show off. Mud squelches next to them, inches from their hiding place, it's when Hermione realises Greyback is narrowing in on them. The wand points towards the Werewolf, the tip of the wand the only hint of a spell. Greybacks eyes glaze, blinking he turns back to the others, their hiding spot undiscovered.

It's the change of temperature that warns her of a new presence, the air almost splinters apart. A tug of darkness touches her own magical core, sharp nails dig into her neck. She winces, at the pain which turns numb as another enters the clearing. Voldemort.

She feels the air leave her lungs, shrinking slightly into the form behind as Voldemort emerges. Harry had not done the creature justice in the description, something unholy has happened to the wizard. Dark magic, it has mingled with his soul, it makes her wonder just what Voldemort has done to become this creature.

 _Please, please don't turn me over to him_. Hermione pleads, pleads to any higher being listening. Black robes billow as the Death Eaters gather around Voldemort, summoned before the devil itself. She doesn't realise she's almost vibrating in fear until the arm relaxes on her throat.

"Hush," Bellatrix whispers against her ear.

She hates herself for relaxing slightly in Bellatrix's embrace. To relax in the embrace of a monster, the one responsible for Neville's parents, for Sirius's death. Still, she finds some comfort being next to the witch in the presence of Voldemort. Perhaps because next to Dumbledore, Bellatrix is the only other known being to survive a duel against Voldemort.

"Where is Bellatrix?" Voldemort demands, his voice stopping any talk.

Closing her eyes, Hermione waits for Bellatrix to throw her in front of the creature. Expects to be a gift of some sort, a leverage to get to Harry. Except, nothing happens. Bellatrix remains quiet merely watching as Voldemort grows impatient looking at his followers expectantly.

"Where is Lestrange?" Voldemort demands again.

"Rodolphus is torturing an Auror, my lord."

"Typical," Bellatrix mutters.

"Summon them."

The words send ice down Hermione's spine, watching as the tattoo on Bellatrix arm writhers. The Dark mark squirming, the witch becomes still behind her, fingers digging into Hermione, who holds in the gasp. It burns red, as the sound of apparitating distracts Hermione as the Lestrange brothers appear. Watches as confusion morphs on Voldemort's face realising that Bellatrix is not appearing. A murmur breaking from some Death Eaters, Hermione refuses to look at the witch behind. Does not want to imagine the pain coursing through the witch's arm.

"She fails to respond, my Lord," Dolohovan speaks.

"Where is she, Lestrange?" Voldemort demands from the brothers.

"We split up my Lord, she spotted the Tonks girl," Rodolphus replies, looking to his brother who shrugs.

"Maybe she's done a runner." Greyback spits.

Hermione flinches as curse strikes a wizard, watches the body crumple to the ground. The guttural screaming making Hermione squirm. The man withering on the ground, begging for mercy. Turning, Hermione looks away from the torture and away from Bellatrix who is watching with fascination. A tear escapes her, she focuses instead on the tree next to them. The little caterpillar slowly inching across the trunk.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Shivering, Hermione turns to the scene of the dead man laying on the ground, she realises it's an Auror. One of Tonks's friends, dead. It feels unnatural, the air torn apart by dark magic, she wipes her eyes. Feels the slight chuckle from Bellatrix. Feels her heart drop, a coldness setting in.

She feels faint, but it's not the scene in front of her, looking down she realises she is bleeding. Adrenaline fading, she is accurately aware of the throbbing pain in her side. The blood mixing with the rain, it runs freely down her side, soaking her hoody. Stumbling, she feels Bellatrix tighten her arms, the hiss of annoyance.

Head falling back, it lands on the shoulder behind, she feels sick. Barely acknowledges Bellatrix's annoyed glare, feels the witch look down. The long uncontrollable hair covering Hermione's face, as the Death Eater finds Hermione's wound.

"Faint now and you will regret it," Bellatrix warns, forcing Hermione to open her eyes.

Hermione almost yelps as a hand presses against her wound, constant pressure to help stop the flow of blood. Hermione feels it's a loosing battle, watching through hazy eyes as the Death Eaters discuss the fight.

The order to leave is passed, they vanish instantly, leaving only Voldemort, whose gaze turns to their location. Bellatrix grows still, neither witch breathing, neither wanting to attract the attention of the Wizard. Hermione is under no illusion, Bellatrix is the only thing stopping her from collapsing.

He apparates, both witches relaxing. Breathing, Hermione goes to push away from the witch, but the hands fail to loosen.

"Oh no, filth." The voice low with the promise of pain. "You're mine."

 _Present Day…_

A sharp kick to the ribs wakes her, jolting she rolls over to find Bellatrix looking down at her. She must have fallen asleep reminiscing. She almost wishes it's a bad dream. Her eyes falling on her letter, no not a bad dream, unfortunately, it's all real.

Pushing herself up, she collects her small belongings, nearly a whole day Bellatrix has had her, still, she remains unwise as to what they are doing. First few hours she spent unconscious, Bellatrix neglecting to heal her side till the last minute. Now they remain in the middle of the forest, Bellatrix pouring over a map. The sun barely risen, Hermione grabs a plate of food left for her eating slowly, she watches the witch.

"What have I told you about staring Muddy."

Hermione barely acknowledges the insult, simply eats her food. Plotting a way to escape, she acts the subdued little witch. Satisfied as Bellatrix sulks at the lack of reply.

Waiting patiently, Hermione holds on to her small number of objects as Bellatrix gathers her items. Doesn't flinch as Bellatrix hand coils around her elbow.

"I almost miss your defiant little mouth." Bellatrix taunts.

The defiant mouth that earned her a backhand earlier that day, or the one that earned her a curse. A curse for pointing out Hermione's blood was the same as Bellatrix's. The death eater not so keen on the reminder was quick to remind Hermione of her place.

Sighing, Bellatrix apparates them away. They arrive feet first in the snow, a cold biting wind taking their breath away. Hermione rummages in her bag for the coat Bellatrix kindly reminded her belonged to another. Cursing, Bellatrix pulls the map from her pocket.

Studying their surroundings, Hermione notices nothing but emptiness, except for the mount behind Bellatrix. In the distance, she notices the small smoke in the air, people, civilization. However, Bellatrix is looking the other way towards another forest.

"Fucking hate maps," Bellatrix grumbles. "Filth hold this,"

Accepting the map on instinct, Bellatrix regards her with curiosity, as she stands immobile waiting for orders. Digging into her bag, Bellatrix retrieves a book.

"Hold the map out."

She does so, obeying without thinking, luring Bellatrix into a false sense of security. Looking in her bag, Bellatrix retrieves another item, before studying the map again, using her compass as a guide. Snapping the compass shut she pockets it, opening the bag she carefully places the book inside, distracted by the job at hand.

Acting on instinct, Hermione charges the witch her shoulder hitting Bellatrix in the stomach knocking the air from her. The Death Eater stumbles backwards, the snow giving way as she falls over the embankment. Crushing the map into her pocket, Hermione turning and runs for the town in the distance, ignoring the shrill scream of annoyance chasing after her. She has no wand, only the act of surprise. She will have to run for her life.

* * *

 **A/n:** So, are there any people left or should I retire for good? Please R&R let me know you live and this may just turn into something spectacular.

 _Till next time..._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: You guys never cease to amaze me, honestly. Thank you for the support, so I would like to say it isn't wasted. I took time off to focus on my book and I have. The book is done 90K words later I am currently in the process of getting an agent. The second book is started but I'm waiting on response for the first before continuing. I can honestly say 2018 has been one of the hardest years of my life, I had mental breakdown. What I can say though the whole thing has made me stronger and I am grateful for everything I have learnt this year.

Life story over, I'd like to say a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed and following. All I have left to say is are you ready for this? I'd like to say this story will perhaps be crazier than Fractures. Brace yourself this is going to kick off...

Warning: this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for over adults.

Disclaimer: No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 **Icy Introductions**

The moment Bellatrix doesn't follow, Hermione knows she has made a grave mistake.

Her ankle twists as her feet touch the hard ground, the soft snow giving way to an unforgiving surface. The biting chill of the wind cuts into her cheeks, she aches. Focussed on the distance she dares not look back dares not to look at the demon.

Temptation wins, a swift glance she finds Bellatrix watching from the side, recovered from the shove. Wand in hand, she merely watches Hermione run away, not chasing. The thought scares Hermione more than it should, terrified she forces her feet to run faster.

It's the piercing crack that causes her heart to stutter, panic to set in. The ground shifts, it's a realisation too late that she is running over a lake. Ice the only thing protecting her from falling into the dark depths below.

She turns, heading to the shore line to the left to the safety of the frozen bank. Can feel the splintering of ice beneath her feet the ground shifting.

Crack.

The ground gives way a jagged line opening beneath her feet throwing her to the ice. She scrambles even as the ice breaks away her legs slipping first hands grasping for purchase. A panicked cry she clutches at the ice trying to stop her descent. Her clothes act as an anchor pulling her down to the dark depths, she flails in panic.

Slipping, her nails breaking as they give way, the water tugs at her turning her body numb. A shape approaches walking towards her, a wand rolling between black gloves. Hermione stares at the witch, refusing to ask for help, not from the likes of Lestrange.

The ice breaks.

She falls into the darkness no time to gasp for air, the water rushes to greet her, clinging to her. The ice cold depths she struggles to move, her clothes extra weight her feet kick uselessly trying to reach for the hole in the ice. She tries not to panic as her throat constricts for air, her eyes wild she stares up at the light coming through the hole.

A dark shadow watches her sink, Hermione's hand shoots up one last attempt to reach the surface begging for help. Her pride damaged she wills the Dark witch to reach in even as her last breath trickles from her lips. The shadow becomes a blur and the ice is no longer unbearable.

She drifts deeper, an air bubble, her last piece of air slipping from her lips. _I don't want to die…_

 _Six weeks earlier…_

A book resting in her lap she watches the students in the distance, sitting on the stone wall. Her quill tapping against her lips, the school celebrating Dumbledore's return and the riddance of the pink menace. Its joy mixed with a pang of sadness, the wizarding world has learned of Voldemort's return.

A strange fear lingers in the air, the laughter not meeting the eyes, in truth Hermione feels the anticipation in the air. She's scared too, scared for Harry for what's in store for them, but she believes in Dumbledore and in the Order.

Another sadness tinges in her heart, she has lost a friend. A stranger turned friend, she knows this is the reason she cannot finish her homework. Her potions left abandoned, she thinks of Sirius. The horror on his face as the spell hits his chest. Harry's unearthly cry, it still brings tears to her now.

"Hey," Speaking of Harry, she turns a tired smile to her friend approaching.

"Hey," She greets patting the wall next to her.

He takes a seat next to her, shoulders rubbing she leans her head on his shoulder for support. It's selfish Harry is the one who has lost his Godfather yet here she is seeking comfort. She wonders where Ron is? She knows he took Sirius death hard, this is no longer a joke, a laugh. They had lost a friend, someone had died and they barely managed to survive the skirmish. Ron will take it the hardest, yet he won't show it. Always the friend, always laughing, she worries about him.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asks.

"I should be asking you that."

Shrugging, Harry plucks a weed from the wall, pulling it apart he stares absently towards the school. Patiently, Hermione waits for him to continue, watching Hufflepuffs play a game in the distance a far cry from the hell they survived.

"Honestly, I feel slightly relieved." She frowns she hadn't expected that answer. "I mean, I miss him, my friend and the only family I had. However, his free now, no longer trapped in the chains cast to him by society. His not hiding in his house, fearful. I think he'd rather be free. "

"That's beautiful."

"Thanks," Harry smiles. "I miss him like crazy, I wish he was here, but…"

"His no longer suffering."

"Yeah." Harry nods throwing away the weed. "How about you? How you holding up?"

"To be expected," Hermione replies. "I miss him."

"I can't believe how close you guys were, he loved you like a daughter."

"He was a good guy, he used to talk to me when I'd stay up late doing school work. We used to share stories, I think he got me. I wasn't just a muggleborn to him, he understood my apprehension about being in Gryffindor. He explained his own, how he wasn't sure if he was sorted into the right house, that the hat made a mistake. I think it was just easier, he understood. He would always bring up us saving him. That if I'm willing to risk everything important to me, to save a stranger, surely that makes me a Gryffindor. I miss him so much."

"Same."

"I never did figure him out, I think he would be disappointed he never got to set the record straight."

"Did you ever figure out what he was talking about?"

"No, he would never say. He just said he owed it to someone, that he let them down, they all let them down. That he couldn't let them down again."

"I wonder who he meant? Maybe his brother."

"Maybe, who knows. It haunted him though, he would always stare at the family tree, just stare at day and night. Shaking his head, I don't know what he wanted to fix, but he wanted to."

She doesn't say any more, doesn't mention the night Sirius had a few drinks staring into the fire. Dried tear streaks, hands shaking relieving a memory, she had disturbed his peace. He had looked at her sadly, patting Hermione's hand as he watched the flames.

" _Would you do something for me, Hermione?" He had asked to the fire, not to her face. "You can say no,"_

" _What is it?" She asked watching his cracked hands softly squeeze hers in return._

" _A long time ago, I let someone down. We all did. We let them down, I let them down. We were wrong, I was wrong and it haunts me. If something were to happen to me, promise me, you won't do the same. Promise me, promise you won't let them down as I did."_

" _Of course."_

" _Your too good."_

Closing her book, she leans away from Harry, she would do anything for Harry, she would look over him as Sirius requested. She can only imagine the guilt he holds is for James and Lily. She will look after Harry she promised Sirius, who was she to break a promise.

 _Present day…_

It's cold where she drifts, nothing but darkness surrounding her. She feels a strange tug, something pulling against her, dragging her towards the blinding light. Blinking she finds herself standing alone in pure whiteness… no emptiness.

She feels no fear, nothing, relaxed she wanders the emptiness looking for an answer. Click. Pausing she hears the gentle click of a stick. A warmth fills her a smell of sweetness in the air, the aroma of baking cakes, sends her back to a childhood memory. Visiting her nan on a Saturday, the weekend learning to stitch or cook.

A tear slips down her cheek she turns to face a woman she thought she would never see again. Her nana, walking towards her a warm smile on her face.

"Nana."

"My little cub, how you've grown." A hand cradles her own.

"What, how is this possibly?" Pausing, Hermione realises the horrible truth. "I'm dead?"

"You have crossed over yes."

"Already?"

Disappointment takes hold, a weight bearing down on her. She had so many plans, wanted to do so much and here she was dead. Because of the demon, because of that witch. Anger pulses a strong vibrant emotion, it rocks everything.

"For a short time, you are. Fear not, your time hasn't come yet. A small blip in the road, we all die a little."

"I'm going back?"

"Shortly, time passes differently here. An eternity here, a few minutes back in the world of the living."

"Why did you never tell me?"

"Tell you what child?" Her nana asks, taking a seat on a white bench.

"That you're a witch… I never knew until your funeral when I inherited your wand. You gave me the book on the History of Hogwarts."

"I made a promise to your father, he wasn't sure if you were the same as me. He didn't want to influence you, it made no difference giving you the book. If you were a muggle the book would be fiction. I knew though, hard not to."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too my love."

"Does my Gerry still play golf?"

"Yeah, dad does."

"Is he still awful."

Smiling, Hermione nods frowning as the air begins to rush around her. A loud whistling noise almost defeating, a hand pats her arm. This is good bye, life is calling her back.

"Don't die in the trials you will be trapped for ever."

"What trials?"

"Don't die, just remember time cannot be erased no how much we wish it to."

The wind becomes deafening muffling Hermione's reply, a sharp pull.

Air rushes back into her lungs, she jerks spluttering, rolling on to her side she expels the water trapped in her body. Coughing, she clutches her aching ribs drowsy she lies still. Her head aches, her lungs struggle for air and her body feels distant.

The crunching of snow brings her attention to the two boots a few feet away. Blinking, Hermione realises Bellatrix is pacing nearby, staring at the compass in her hands. With a groan, Hermione rolls on to her back staring up to the white sky.

Her mind struggles to remember, the only sound is the cracking of ice, the water rushing into her lungs. She clutches her dry jacket studying the trees above.

Snow taps against her cheek as boots come to rest next to her, dark eyes staring down at her. Bellatrix studying her, Hermione resists the urge to give the witch a piece of her mind.

"Welcome back." Bellatrix greets.

"I died," Hermione croaks.

"Yep,"

"You saved me?"

"I wouldn't go that far filth, you took the map down with you. IF you hadn't, I would have left you to become a popsicle. Besides I need you alive."

"Why?"

"You ask that now? Not before running on to a lake covered in ice, I thought you were meant to be smart."

"Your meant to be a psychopath and you saved me."

A boot lands heavily on her chest, pressing down. Pain rockets through her body, stealing a yelp, her hands clutch the ankle trying to prevent the witch from pressing on her delicate ribs. Kneeling, Bellatrix sneers her weight pushing on to her ribs.

"Even a psychopath has a use for a filthy mongrel." Bellatrix spits. "Your death is not required at this stage. I will let you know when I no longer need you breathing, until that stage. You are mine filth; your life is in my hands."

"Please," Hermione gasps trying to push the boot from her chest.

"Hmm, I like you begging, it means you know your place. A small reminder pet, I may have revived you, does not mean there won't be bruises covering your chest. Magic works faster but will still leave some marks. I could heal them, but I think you need a reminder should you have any further ideas of running."

The foot retracts, she chokes on the air, sitting up she cradles her delicate chest. Hating the witch for not healing her properly, for leaving her weak. Hating herself for the foolish plan and for allowing herself to become so vulnerable.

A curse leaves dark lips, Hermione flinches as the compass smashes against a tree, a frustrated kick at the snow. Crawling backwards she relaxes against a tree, watching Bellatrix place the map against the snow.

Eyeing the bottle of water, she wonders if it's worth asking for, wonders if she should even attempt to engage the angry witch with a request. What are they even here for? What does Bellatrix hope to gain from dragging Hermione along?

"Why are we here?" Hermione croaks unable to stay in the dark any longer.

A vicious hand pauses mid-way, no longer tracing the map as the gaze switches focus. Swallowing, Hermione tries to ignore the tremble in her body, pretends it's because she's cold. At least Bellatrix dried her clothes, but if she's needed alive even Bellatrix understands she may die of hyperthermia.

"We're searching for something," Bellatrix answers distractedly.

"Searching for what?"

"It's none of your business."

"You made it my business when you kidnapped me,"

"Filthy little."

"No," Hermione interrupts pushing to her feet ignoring the pain in her chest. "You dragged me on to this little quest, you were after Tonks. So why am I here? What are we looking for?"

"You don't get to demand." Bellatrix hisses stalking towards Hermione. "You dare interrupt me again I will bury you in that ice."

"Go ahead." Hermione spits. "You admitted you need me alive though, so you tell me what we're looking for and maybe we can actually get the job done."

"You don't even know what we're doing?"

"No offence, but it seems you don't know either."

Like a viper, a hand snaps around her chin, the wand pressing against her throat. Despite the pounding heart, Hermione holds the death stare levelled at her, tries not to shrink under the gaze. A hex makes her gasp, it burns her shoulder leaving no mark, only agonising pain. Releasing a gasp, a tear slips forbidden from her eye. The monstrous smirk grows bigger, poisonous lips poised for the attack.

"You can curse me," Hermione grinds out, ignoring the pain. "You can belittle me, but get one thing straight Lestrange. The only thing that really hurts me is stupidity. Watching you trying to understand whatever the map is telling you is painful. It hurts."

The hand clenches, nails cutting into skin, her back hits the bark of the tree. The tip of the wand lights and she thinks she may have just pushed Bellatrix over the edge. Maybe she wants to die, to be free of this burden. Free from this Demon.

"You have balls filth," Bellatrix praises, the wand traces her cheek almost soothingly if it wasn't for the painful shock that follows. "If I tell you, then what?"

"I help you find whatever your after and you let me go my own way – alive and with my sanity."

"You're in no position to make demands."

"You need me alive."

"Not willing, however."

Swallowing, Hermione hadn't considered the imperious curse, had failed to consider that alternative. Bellatrix could curse her, could force her against her will. She remains strong, but she knows the panic is reflected in her eyes.

"Why?" Bellatrix asks.

"The sooner I help you the sooner I can go home."

The curved wand flashes once more, she flinches from the light, the hand leaving her chin. She expects the crucio, expects terrible pain. Nothing happens, opening her eyes, Bellatrix has walked away retrieving her map she reaches into her bag. Pulling out a book she regards Hermione, before handing the book over.

"Very well," Bellatrix answers as Hermione accepts the book timidly. "Call it a deal if you must. You help me get what I want and I will let you leave."

"Alive," Hermione replies toying with the book in her hands. "And sanity intact."

"I cannot promise the sanity." Bellatrix shrugs offering her hand.

"Sanity intact."

"Filth, I don't know what's ahead of us, I cannot promise that."

"Fine, you won't take my sanity."

A small shrug, swallowing, Hermione takes the outstretched hand, the cold skin wrapping around hers sealing her fate. Magic courses through the shake, a vow made, not an unbreakable vow, but a magical vow all the same. The promise to finish this task together. Except, Hermione feels as though she has made a deal with the devil.

Stretching the hand that shook, Hermione watches as Bellatrix takes a seat on the rocks sticking out the snow. A smirk never leaving her face. She feels dread sink in and she wonders since when has she started making hasty decisions. Panic tries to take over, she feels her chest restrict the urge to cry almost uncontrollable.

She forces it back taking deep breathes she turns away from the witch. The hand resting on her chest, she closes her eyes forcing calming breaths, feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest. The calming effect almost instant.

Releasing the last breath, she considers her options, she cannot steal her wand back from Bellatrix. Cannot run away without Bellatrix knowing, cannot win against the witch. Her only escape is by helping Bellatrix achieve the mission. It will then be up to the dark witch whether or not she allows Hermione to live.

"Second thoughts?" Bellatrix taunts.

"No," Hermione answers, turning back to the witch. "What are you looking for?"

"The Sleeping Mosses."

The world almost spins from beneath her, slipping to her bum, Hermione takes a seat in the snow. Staring at Bellatrix for the first time, as though she truly has lost her mind. It's not possible, they're both going to die.

"You've heard of them, I'll take it?" Bellatrix says, bored as she flicks with her nails.

"It's impossible."

"Not if your me."

"No one has ever achieved it."

"Not true, no one ever remembers achieving it, true majority of people die attempting this. Or stay trapped forever in this task, but where's the fun in something if there's not a little risk."

"We're going to die."

"Filth, if we don't do this, we're both dead."

"Are you doing this for him? Is this some sick mission?"

"Yes and no."

"Lestrange."

"Filth."

Rubbing her forehead, Hermione studies the book in her hand. No, it is not a book it is a journal, she traces the spine with her finger earning a grimace from Bellatrix.

"Think carefully filth," Bellatrix warns resting her arms on thighs. "This is your last chance."

Frowning, Hermione wonders why the witch isn't warning her about getting her _filth_ hands over the precious book. Instead, Bellatrix seems to be regarding Hermione in hidden regret.

 _Only the pure can take this journey,_

 _Strength will wield true power,_

 _The wisest will understand lost_

 _Cruel actions will deliver the truth_

 _And only then will you reach your heart's desire._

 _Very deep._ _Hermione thinks to herself, ignoring the dread that pools in her stomach. Only the pure, she is not pure in the eyes of a pure blood. She doesn't understand why Bellatrix has brought her along. Why Bellatrix was even considering Tonks, the only option is the sickest option. Will she be a sacrifice, she knows of ancient dark magic?_

 _I, Reuel Sandor Black, shield to the Sleeping Mosses, pass forth my knowledge to any Black descendant worthy of the name. The trial will only reveal itself to those worthy, to those deemed strong enough. Should you fall, your passing will be marked on the ancient tombs of the trial and forgotten by the world. No Black will fail this trial, no one of pure will perish._

 _The trials are designed to test. Do not underestimate._

Closing the book, she stares at the witch in front of her, they are going to die on this foolishness. Pop. The book vanishes from her hands startling her, a loud pop echoes above. Climbing to her feet, Hermione wonders what is happening, flinching as Bellatrix rests an arm on her shoulder.

"Ah, so that's what it was waiting for." Bellatrix comments.

"What's happening."

"The trial is beginning…"

The ground shudders beneath their feet, the sky turning to the colour violet as a vortex opens above them. Ancient magic, she clings to Bellatrix's arm, the force of the magic pulling at her is terrifying.

She lands on her knees, hands touching dirt. Blinking she pushes to her feet stumbling she stares around an empty field an old barn abandoned. Bellatrix is already standing wand drawn the sky flickers before it returns to normal. The clouds floating past as though nothing is wrong.

"It begins," Bellatrix comments with a satisfied nod, her map turning to ash in her hands. "Finally."

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter was slightly harder to write as it preparing for the main story. Bit of a filler till the good stuff start kicking off. I have only one question are you ready? R&R peeps this is going to be crazy! Till next time...


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n** Hey guys, new chapter up, not sure when the next one will follow, with xmas coming up I could be working 60 hours a week so if I'm free I'll upload. Also i'm moving in the new year, I will update when I can and this isn't a simple move two minutes down the road. No we're picking up and moving six hours away from home cannot wait, beach here we come! I am here I promise I will just be very busy.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for over adults.

 **Disclaimer** : No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

 **A River in the Sky**

Trembling the teapot pours its liquid into the waiting chipped cup that has seen better days. The Phoenix watches with its beady eyes as the immanent object wanders around the room. Even the teapot can feel the tension in the air, the atmosphere thick with uncertainty.

Long fingers wrapped around the cup the hand plucks it from its saucer, thin lips sipping the tea. Another wizard paces by the window watching the grounds below, the full moon casting doubt on all decisions. The older wizard deep in thought the meeting leaving an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"The boy cannot find out," The old wizard orders hands clutching the railing. "Not yet, he can not learn none of them can. Not until I speak to him alone."

"You will collect Potter?"

"Yes, this has changed everything though. I will collect him in a couple weeks before school starts. I need his help with something."

A hand curls through the long beard almost soothingly as Dumbledore considers his options left. A spanner in his plan, he will have to alter.

"What of the girl? What of Granger?" Snape asks placing his cup down. "Bellatrix will not be kind."

"No, never the less Bellatrix is not known for predictability."

"You think she will spare Granger? Albus, surely you know what will happen to the girl."

"Bellatrix needs her for a reason. You heard Tonks, Bellatrix was after her, before she changed to Miss Granger. And you say Tom doesn't know what Bellatrix is planning?"

"He is very angry. The Lestrange brothers were questioned – extensively."

"What of Madam Malfoy?"

"It would appear her memory has been wiped."

"Bellatrix would not risk her sister's wellbeing. Nor would Tom want to enrage Bellatrix by hurting her, she will remain safe."

The phoenix stretches its wings, lifting from it's perch it vanishes up into the rafters of the room. Snape watches it fly away he cannot shake the concern, not for Miss Granger, he knows there is no hope for the girl not any more. Bellatrix will not spare her any mercy, but it troubles him. Bellatrix is the most loyal, Voldemort's most trusted and she has vanished.

"Are we certain Bellatrix isn't working on Tom's orders?" Dumbledore questions for the fourth time.

"Very certain, he seems… almost hurt by her betrayal." Snape replies flicking flint from his robe. "If that is possible."

"Tom holds Bellatrix in high regard, her loyalty knows no bounds. This is what makes the whole thing troubling."

"Your worried? Why? Bellatrix's betrayal means she is no longer a factor to consider. It makes the Dark Lord vulnerable." Snape asks leaning forward. The news of Bellatrix's betrayal has rocked two kings, one no longer having control of their queen.

"Ah my dear boy, I never feared Tom. His down fall will always be set. For Tom cannot comprehend love, he cannot connect. Will never understand the true strength of love, even after dying at Lily Potter's hands he still sees love as a weakness."

A flinch from Snape as he readjusts in his seat, demons running in his eyes. His mind going back to a time of pain, a reminder of what his actions caused.

"I'm not following Albus, what does this have to do with Bellatrix?" Snape questions as far as he was concerned not having Bellatrix questioning his loyalty has made his life easier.

"Very few people know Bellatrix's story, her actions against the Longbottom's has made her someone to fear. She became Voldemort's most loyal but her origins became insignificant."

"She's crazy," Snape replies.

"Maybe."

"I've been in the room with her and I can honestly say she is far from sane."

"Bellatrix is passionate, perhaps in the heat of the battle, one would class her as unstable. There is only one other beside myself who has beaten Tom in a duel."

"Bellatrix has?"

"Yes."

"This is why your worried?"

"Bellatrix is a formidable weapon, under control she is predictable. Her loyalty to Tom meant she would never sabotage his orders."

"Surely now we should be happy if Bellatrix has turned from the Dark Lord. It means he is weaker."

"Yes." Dumbledore nods, eyes flicking to the clock. "It means Tom is weaker, however, it also means an extraordinary talented witch is free. It troubles me, if she no longer is allied with Tom it could spell more trouble."

"Do we not know where she has gone?"

"I was contacted by a friend; an old tradition was performed. An ancient passage activated on the night of Miss Granger's kidnapping. However, they are unsure which passage opened. Very old magic, they are trying to find me more information. It could be a coincidence; however, I do not believe so. Something troubles me more, there was another prophecy to that of Harry's. I have heard of it but the prophecy was stolen from the Unforgivables. Not long before Bellatrix went to Azkaban."

"You think she took it?"

"It was concerning her, I believe. It concerned a witch of great power at first, I thought it to be another, however, I noticed Lucius Malfoy had entered the room of prophecies. It would appear his mind to be erased memory gone. Tom had fallen, I believed Bellatrix to be acting on his orders."

"And we never knew what the prophecy stated?"

"No."

"What happens if Bellatrix changed sides?"

"Bellatrix cannot be allowed to change sides."

"The Dark Lord will kill her or worse."

"Bellatrix is too much of a risk she must be treated as much."

"Your talking of sentencing her to her death," Snape comments frowning. "I am not a fan of the witch never the less, she has invaluable information and her skill to be used."

"Should Bellatrix approach the order, she should be treated as a threat and we should respond in kind."

"Kill her."

"Bellatrix, cannot change sides."

Dumbledore turns back to the grounds, his words final. Lost for words, Snape stares at the back of the old wizard they are sentencing a witch to her death. If she truly is running from Voldemort then they are missing a big opportunity.

"Why do the Death Eaters think Bellatrix has betrayed Tom?" Dumbledore asks reaching for his cup of tea.

"There was a disagreement between them not long ago. No one knows what was said, only Bellatrix seemed visibly shaken from a meeting. Ever since she has been acting weird. Not her usual self."

"You must find out what Tom spoke to her about, learning this could mean understanding Bellatrix state of mind and possibly the safe return of Miss Granger."

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~~

Groggy, she finds herself kneeling on the hard ground, water soaking into her trousers. Groaning, she rubs her neck the sky returning to its usual colour, she looks around. Bellatrix is on her feet, rolling up her sleeves revealing deep scars running along her wrists. The marks of chains from her imprisonment, the terrors of Azkaban revealed. Bellatrix seems almost proud of her scars, but the sight makes Hermione look away.

Pushing to her feet, she looks around the vast emptiness of their surroundings. Rolling fields of nothing, turning Hermione watches the witch move to the only building. A barn. Following behind Hermione pauses as Bellatrix orders her to stop moving.

Feet digging into the dirt, Hermione waits as Bellatrix nudges the large brown door open wand at the ready, she enters. Nervously, Hermione waits outside her fingers twitching. A bang makes her jump the smell of something burning makes her wonder if it's safe to enter. Tapping her foot, she becomes impatient, as time slowly trickles by. Annoyed, she follows nudging the door wider she allows the light to leak in.

Irritated to find Bellatrix sitting on hay, searching through her bag. Following the smell of smoke, she finds a curled-up rodent in the corner. Frowning, Hermione turns her questioning gaze back to Bellatrix.

"Don't trust rats," Bellatrix comments finally finding what she was searching for, she pulls a rolled-up sheet from her bag.

Standing, she motions for Hermione to move out the way, stepping aside Hermione waits for the great reveal. With a simple flick of her wrist, the sheet unravels in the air, spreading out just under five-foot-long it lands softly on the ground. A gasp escaping Hermione's lips at the sight of many different weapons on display. Daggers, several different wands and various dangerous potions at the ready.

"Wow." Hermione breathes staring at the weapons.

Ignoring, Hermione, Bellatrix bends down to examine one of her daggers, running her finger along the blade until it nicks her skin. Blood drips on to the ground, sucking her finger, Bellatrix slips the dagger into her boot. Reaching for her potions she picks another dagger before bathing it into the potion. After a few minutes, she pulls the dagger free, a green tinge running along the blade. Hermione winces at the smell of iron in the air, wondering what concoction Bellatrix has dipped her blade into.

"Dragon's blood," Bellatrix comments as though reading Hermione's thoughts once more. "Just in case."

"In case of what?" Hermione asks.

"Somethings cannot be killed with mortal weapons, they require… extra. Basilisk fangs are also good, but I don't fancy carrying a basilisk around with me. Do you?"

"I've had enough to do with basilisk to last a life time."

"Ah yes, Wormtail told us, you got petrified."

Hermione blushes at the thought of Death Eaters casually discussing her and the boy's antics. The thought unnerves her, disturbs her how much information Wormtail gained by pretending to be a pet.

"Can I have my wand back?" Hermione asks eyeing the spare wands.

A harsh laugh makes Hermione flinch at the sheet rolls back up and disappears into the bag. Removing any idea of stealing a wand just for back up. Shaking her head, Bellatrix rises to her feet, securing the rope to her side, she almost appears like a casual hiker if it weren't for the armoury full of weapons.

"Ah, you're a funny one muddy." Bellatrix comments, slipping her bag into her pocket and zipping it. "As if you've earned the right to hold a wand."

"The right?" Hermione demands as she rises to her feet.

"Aww, did you forget your little stunt early, you know after I saved your life. You think you deserve to have a wand after being so stupid?" Bellatrix sneers.

"I have every right," Hermione snaps. "That wand is mine, I earned it."

"Oh, muddy you have no idea what it means to earn something, magical that is." Bellatrix quips, checking her other pocket for a spare dagger.

"I am head of every class, considered the brightest witch of my age and you dare slander my requirements for a wander."

"Did I hurt wittle muddy's feelings?" Bellatrix hisses stepping closer. "News flash brat, I too was the Brightest witch of my age and the head of every class. I cast an unforgivable at the age of fourteen and held my own in a duel against the crazy old coot Dumbledore. I alone am the Dark Lords most loyal and I alone am the only one who has won a duel against him. You have no idea what it means to earn a wand."

"Not that loyal, since your running from him."

Slap. Her cheek aches from the backhand, it's nothing to the burning rage directed at her as the hand curls in her top. Dragging her closer to look Bellatrix in the eyes, she tries not to shrink wonders how much she can push the witch until she gets punished with magic.

"Watch your tongue filth," Is the unnatural growl. "I don't have a need for it. You don't know me filth nor do you know the reason we are here. I recommend you watch your tongue."

"You don't know me." Hermione spits back. "That wand belongs to my Nana. I want it back."

"You're a mudblood."

Flinching at the slur, Hermione stops her first resort mustering the urge not to punch the witch in the face. To not start a fight, she cannot finish.

"There's always magic in a muggleborns family. My wand."

"Not happening," Bellatrix sneers pushing Hermione away. "Not until I trust you, filth and that is not going to happen any time soon. Besides, you don't even know the risks yet. The trials have begun, there is no escape."

"What?" Hermione asks.

"No escape. Unable to flee…"

"No, I know what that means. What do mean we cannot escape, surely we can apparate."

"They told me you were smart. We've entered the trial of the Sleeping Moses, you cannot just decide you no longer want to be a part of it. We're here till the end or until we die."

"What happens if you just leave?"

"You cannot leave, the portal is shut. Once inside the outside world is no longer running at the same speed as us. Almost a different dimension, you have to complete each trial, if you get it wrong it will put back at the start. The trials will rotate, you are stuck here till the end. Sunk in has it?"

"What could be worth this?" Hermione demands. "What could you possibly need or want? You have money, magic and power. You are the Dark Lords most loyal, what could you possibly want?"

"Somethings cannot be brought or taken," Bellatrix comments to herself, moving away. "We need to move, good job I brought a spare compass…"

"Shush," Hermione says stepping forwards.

"What did you just say to me?" Bellatrix growls. "Did you just shush me… Filth you do not…"

"Quiet." Hermione snaps straining to listen. "Can you hear that?"

Stepping closer, Bellatrix's finger taps her wand, resisting the urge to curse, Hermione doesn't know. Both witches listen to the odd sound outside the barn, the strange sound of air moving. A loud flapping, as though a flock of birds. The ground shakes, Hermione clutches the nearest thing, which so happens to be Bellatrix's arm, who brushes the hand off.

"Earthquake?" Hermione asks as the ground rumbles.

"No," Bellatrix swallows eyes going wild she grabs Hermione pushing her to the door. "RUN!"

Hermione doesn't need to be told twice, seeing fear on Bellatrix's face is enough to make her run. She heads for the door as the roof of the barn is ripped away, showering them both in splinters of wood. An ungodly roar sends fear down her spine as the barn explodes with fire.

They burst through the door, feet pounding, risking a look backwards, Hermione sees the giant dragon stamping on the barn. Almost losing her footing as black glowing eyes turn to her, she nearly collapses in panic. It's Bellatrix running past her that brings out her competition she pushes herself to keep up.

Flinching as a ball of fire nearly misses them, Bellatrix running the opposite way from the dragon, towards the shelter of the forest. Except, Hermione's mind is running faster than her feet, trying to catch up. Ignores the gust of wind as the dragon takes to the sky above them. Focuses instead on the quarry to her left where the dragon is trying to divert them from.

She doesn't think, she grabs Bellatrix's arm, pulling the witch in the other direction narrowly avoiding being burnt alive.

"What are you doing?" Bellatrix shouts.

"It's leading us to the forest, we need to go where it doesn't want us to go."

Bellatrix catches on as she eyes the sharp drop in front of them. Out the corner of her eye, Hermione catches sight of the ball of fire heading towards her. Not thinking twice, she tackles the witch next to her, both of them rolling over as the ground erupts into an inferno next to them. Shoving Hermione off her, Bellatrix draws her wand firing rapid curses off towards the beast in the sky.

A roar of pain as the dragon hits the ground with a loud thud. They don't celebrate as Bellatrix pulls Hermione to her feet continuing their run towards the deep quarry in front of them.

"You hurt it?" Hermione shouted.

"No, I just pissed it off," Bellatrix replies.

Gasping, Hermione ducks as fire engulfs the shield protecting them the heat melting through the magical barrier. Another hit from the Dragon and they are dead. Her foot slips, her knee grazing along the rocky ground, ignoring the pain she pushes to her feet.

Only to slide to a stop, staring at the drop-in front of them, breathless she swallows her mouth dry. It's not a quarry just a sharp drop into a fast-flowing river. She's not even sure if they are going to make the fall, without breaking their necks or drowning.

Bellatrix is cursing turning to face the advancing dragon ready to die for her stupid cause.

"Well done muddy you got us killed." Bellatrix spits getting into the stance for the last fight of her life.

"This doesn't make sense."

"Should have fucking followed me." Bellatrix roars.

The ground shakes as the Dragon moves closer, furious it bears its yellow teeth revealing the build of fire. Yelping as the fire engulfs their shield Hermione glances to Bellatrix who is standing tall holding the shield. Sweat drips down the Death Eaters face, the flames leaching through the cracks in the shield. They're going to die by fire, she's going to die again.

"Get ready to meet your maker," Bellatrix growls hoarsely.

"Not yet." Hermione answers.

Grabbing the dark witch's arm, she ignores the angry glare, mentally preparing herself for what she's about to do.

"You want to die holding my hand?" Bellatrix laughs cruelly.

"See what you don't know is I may be the brains of the trio," Hermione recounts. "it's not to say my plans are always sane. I'm going to need that trust now."

"WHAT?"

"Right NOW!" Hermione shouts pulling on the witch's arm.

She jumps towards the rushing water as Bellatrix's shield erupts. Dragging the dark witch behind she clutches the arm as they fall to their demise. Twice now she will die in water at least this time she won't be alone.

They both flinch as a fire ball chase after them. Taking a deep breath Hermione closes her eyes bracing for the water. They hit it with a smack the cold pushing the air out of them, they fall through the surface gasping they land on the solid ground beneath.

Landing with a smack, Hermione groans, her ribs aching at the punishment of the ground, she opens her eyes to tree bark. Coughing, she splutters clutching her stomach in pain from the sharp landing. She flinches as hands curl around her pulling her away.

Bellatrix yanking her to the side until she lands in the witch's lap a question forming on her lips it dies. The ground erupts next to them, as the fire ball that chased them hits where they just landed. Frowning, Hermione looks upwards to the river running freely above their heads, a river in the sky. The sight of the dragon screaming in annoyance slowly evaporating as the portal closes.

Speechless, Hermione cannot comprehend the magic these trials have, half amazed to be alive. Brushing wet hair from her face, Bellatrix stares up at the sky in mild wonder. Panting heavily, Hermione pulls her knees to her chest, rubbing her eyes.

"What? What just happened?" Hermione whispers unable to catch her breath.

"We're through to the next round."

A flask of water lands in her hands making her recoil, as Bellatrix climbs to her feet drying herself with her wand. A flush of warmth fills her as Bellatrix dries Hermione off too. Taking deep gulps of the water, Hermione allows the strangeness to sink in.

"So, any more questions?" Bellatrix demands as she brushes herself down "Or are you understanding what we're doing now?

"No, no more questions." Hermione rasps handing the flask back to Bellatrix.

"That one's yours," Bellatrix comments off hand. "If we come across any water we need to refill, preferably a stream."

"Wait," Hermione says as Bellatrix prepares for their next journey the witch with endless energy. "You beat You Know Who in a duel?"

Laughing, Bellatrix swigs her own water leading the way through the thick trees. She pulls out a machete to cut the vegetation back creating a path.

"Took you long enough."

* * *

 **A/n:** Honestly, I love the original CITM it's my first Bellamione however, I think it came out too early. As all the information I needed to make that story work has only really just been released by our queen. It also makes my life easier because I can now incorporate it all. Also this story is fast paced for a reason but it shall be slowing down when the girls get their bearing. Also I don't hate Dumbledore honestly, he just so happens to always appear evil in my stories. His reasons will become clear as will much in this story. Now the introductions are over the real trials can begin.

Also to those asking I don't know if I'll be returning to Fractures, however I can if anyone is interested give you a break down of the plot so you may not have the story but you know how it would go and finish. Let me know if your interested and I can add it on in an author's note. I apologise for letting anyone down, but Fracture last champion is not something I can see myself finishing any time soon. I can give closure for those needing it but not a full story.

Till next time...


	4. Chapter 4

A/n Hey guys, new chapter up, not sure when the next one will follow, with xmas coming up I could be working 60 hours a week so if I'm free I'll upload. Also i'm moving in the new year, I will update when I can and this isn't a simple move two minutes down the road. No we're picking up and moving six hours away from home cannot wait, beach here we come! I am here I promise I will just be very busy.

Warning: this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for over adults.

Disclaimer: No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

 **Tit for Tat**

 _Dear Harry,_

 _It's been a few days now, I suppose by now you would know. I want you to know I'm okay, I think I'm okay. I cannot leave though, I need to finish this mission, although I feel it fruitless. I don't want to help her, I don't wish to aid the Death Eater. I don't know what she's hoping to achieve, I feel it is all for him though, who else would it be for?_

 _I hate this, I hate every second I spend with her. I keep looking at her and seeing Sirius die, can still hear her cackling. I want to do something I never dreamt about before… I want to_ _kill her._ _I want revenge. I don't like these thoughts, I feel my temper is out of control._

 _Is Ron going for the Gryffindor quidditch team? Wish him my luck, give him a boost. I know he can do it, I know you will support him. I wish I was there with you, I miss you all so much. Don't worry though, she doesn't want me dead, not yet anyway. Not yet._

 _I'll see you soon, with all my love._

 _Hermione._

Teeth rip into meat, leaving only the pinkie milk of the bone on display. Pitch black eyes stare into the fire, a hand prodding life into it, spilling the smoke into the air. A silence keeps the conversation to a minimum. A stream trickles nearby, a fresh source of water as they take comfort at the base of the mountain.

The cooked bird set aside scraps left for another time as a another sits picking at their food. Uncertainty in their movements, not used to living rough. They peel the meat slowly with less precision from the bone. Remorse for the bird now cooked, despite the demon tearing meat from the bone.

Setting their little metal tray down, the youngest rubs there back trying to get comfy, to ignore the bruise that has grown on their side. Wrapping a blanket around them they stare off towards the stars in the sky, memories of camping with her parents. Smiling to herself, she remembers the time her dad tried to set the tent up but managed to set up inside out. The giggling of her mother and herself filling the forest.

The thought makes her worry for her parents would the Order tell them what has happened to her, would they tell them she was kidnapped? Taken by a madwoman who is amazing at cooking. That even rice and meat tastes like a five star restaurant? She shakes her head, smiling at the letter she wrote, she folds it away with the other.

"What do your parents do?" The voice startles Hermione, jolting the tray in her lap she turns to the dark witch currently picking meat from the remaining bird. "Your muggle parents, what do they do?"

"Why?" Hermione asks folding her arms.

"I'm interested," Bellatrix replied licking a finger clean. "Besides it's this or staring at the sky. So, what do they do?"

"They're dentists."

"Ah, that's the one with the teeth, right? The Teeth doctors?"

"Yeah… How do you know that?" Hermione questions scooping rice on to her spoon.

"Know thy enemy." Bellatrix shrugs throwing a bone into the distance. "I always found the mental ones interesting."

"The psychologists?"

"Umm, I find them interesting."

"How do you know so much about the muggle world?"

"Oh yes I forgot, I'm the big bad Death Eater without remorse or conscious. We just kill for no reason."

"Well, you do."

"No filth, most Death Eaters go home to their families. This is a war, people die. Besides, I don't get to be the Dark Lords lieutenant by being a fucking good duellist. I do my research I need to know which muggles do what and why." Bellatrix replies sipping her water. "Tell you what, tit for tat. I ask and you get to ask in return. Fire away."

"Why?"

"I'm bored." Bellatrix answers. "My turn."

"Wait! No, that wasn't a question."

"Yes, it was." Bellatrix cackles throwing her plate aside. "Let's think, ah yes. Why were you with the Aurors the night I chose you?"

"Chose?" Hermione scoffs earning an eye roll from the Death Eater. "Tonks promised to take me to the Ministry. We got distracted she lost something on patrol said I'd give her a hand in return."

"What were you doing."

"Nope, my turn," Hermione smirks. "Why did you join the Death Eaters?"

"That it?" Bellatrix scoffs. "Because I believe in it."

"What were you doing at the Ministry?"

"Checking my birthday," Hermione answers distractedly. "Wait, that's it. You joined just because you believe in it?"

"Yes, oh did muddy think I had some sob story that my I was forced to follow. No. I believe in what my Lord stands for and I believe there should be change." Bellatrix grins. "Why did you need to check your birthday surely you're not that stupid?"

"I used a time turner in the third year, my birthday changed. I had to make sure I was allowed to use my wand during the school holidays."

"Damn McGonagall," Bellatrix hisses. "Old bat wouldn't let me use it. Oh well, so who have you fucked out of Potter and Weasley?"

Choking Hermione glares at the witch who merely smirks in return. Reaching for her flask Hermione takes a sip wondering how to respond to the question.

"Neither, they're my friends."

"How bland," Bellatrix mutters throwing a bone into the forest.

"What about you?" Hermione challenges. "Which Death Eaters you had sex with?"

"None, have you seen them… well, there was one but you wouldn't know of them."

"That's not true, your husband is a Death Eater. "

"As if I'd let him touch me, please," Bellatrix replies casually flicking dirt from underneath her nails. "Why do you hate me?"

"I feel like that's a bit obvious," Hermione states coldly.

"If it was obvious filth I wouldn't ask, but I can guess. I'm the big bad Death Eater and you belong to the light…"

"You killed Sirius." Hermione spits.

"Oh, he was your lover."

"No!" Hermione snaps. "He was my friend, he understood me and you killed him."

"Yes," Bellatrix answers with no remorse. "It's what happens."

"How can you not care he was your cousin?"

"And this is war. If I died, would you mourn my death?"

"That's different?"

"How so?" Bellatrix questions. "I'm not here to lecture you, never the less this is also the reason I hate Dumbledore for allowing children to play in war. You cannot comprehend that this whole thing has nothing to do with us. Me, you Sirius we are all insignificant. Just pawns in the game of chess between two kings. If you die here, your friends will mourn you and if I die my friends will mourn me. Yet we would just become names in a war. Sirius knew the risks of engaging us in battle, every time we fight, we understand we may not come home. Except Dumbledore fills your heads with the idea of grandeur. That you are the good fighting the bad, that we are the apostles of darkness. In truth, some of us are scared of spiders, some sleep with a candle and others are monsters. Some are neither good nor bad merely wish a change. What right do muggles have to rule? To destroy the world?"

"Your hoping to make me swap sides?" Hermione scoffs.

"No filth, you are no use to us." It shouldn't hurt but the comment does. Hermione is the smartest witch of her age she would be beneficial to any side. "You can only see the world as good and bad when in truth there is no such thing."

"So, you're not bad?"

"Me oh I never proclaimed that. I am evil, I enjoy torturing, I enjoy the screams and I enjoy a fucking good fight and a good fucking."

Flushing, Hermione looks away at the vulgar language tries to not allow her mind to engage with the pictures. She won't allow Bellatrix to try to convince her that the Death Eaters are just normal people, but still doubt nibbles away.

"Why not join the Order?" Hermione questions meeting Bellatrix gaze once more.

A laugh, unlike any Hermione, has heard from the witch fills their silence a deep throaty laugh that sounds human. It's deep and inviting as the witch falls on to her back breathless laughing with tears in her eyes. Hermione knows she should feel annoyed at being laughed at however she feels a smile crack her frown.

"You got me there muddy," Bellatrix comments rising to her feet. "I haven't laughed like that in a long time."

Reaching for another piece of wood, Bellatrix feeds the fire not elaborating on the answer. Disappointed Hermione wants to know why the witch wouldn't swap sides, if there is no good or bad then why not fight for the order.

"Why not?" Hermione questions making the witch pause wood still in hand.

"Oh, you were serious?" Bellatrix asks as the fire cracks with renewed life. "I thought it was obvious."

"No, not really."

"Think on it," Bellatrix comments pulling out her sleeping bag. "Time for sleep."

"What's your wish?" Hermione asks not wanting this moment to end.

"Ah, ah, not happening,"

"That's not fair."

"Such is life, also what's not fair you keep eyeing my dagger through this whole conversation. I was being pleasant muddy and all that time you wanted to avenge poor Sirius."

"What?" Hermione splutters ice running through her veins. "I wasn't."

"Please, you think I'd waste my time asking about your life for no reason? Good to know even in death my cousin wants to screw me over."

"You killed him," Hermione snaps rising to her feet. "In cold blood."

"And you sit there in the hopes to what? Steal my dagger to drive it through my heart?" Bellatrix cackles as she pulls out her dagger, grasping Hermione's hand she pulls it forward pressing the handle into Hermione's palm. "Go for it, filth, drive it home."

Guiding the blade, it touches the Death Eaters chest hovering above the beating heart. Swallowing, the handle feels heavy in her hand, the dagger strange to hold the thought to push it through the chest to kill the vile witch. It would, however, spell her end here it would mean her death stuck in these trials.

Clink. The dagger hits the rock, landing safely in the mud earning merely a smirk from Bellatrix.

"I'm not you," Hermione states angrily.

"No, I would have slit your throat without a second thought."

"Your no good to me dead," Hermione replies coldly, stepping away. "Don't think my logic is a weakness nor kindness."

She turns away from the witch, heart hammering as she reaches for her sleeping bag. Not daring to look at the witch tries to ignore the shake in her hands as she shimmies into her bag. Listens as Bellatrix collects her dagger stalking back to her bed. They fall into an uncomfortable silence, Hermione curled away clutching her letter to her chest.

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~

The stream slaps against the rock near her foot, as the flasks slosh with water. Pocketing her own, she bends over once more to fill the other, dipping it into the flowing water. She considers spitting in the water but decides against it.

The sun low in the early morning bringing the forest to life birds chirping. She hears Bellatrix stomping out the fire, the talk from last night still on repeat in her mind. How Hermione fell so easily into Bellatrix's manipulation. It concerns her how easy Bellatrix finds a way to get information out of her. Worries her.

Rising, she secures the lids, her gaze catching on something. Stepping carefully on the rocks, she crosses the stream, her foot squelching in the mud. She parts the bushes surprised to find a stone path that leads upwards and follows the winding stream down.

"Bellatrix!" She shouts, the name sounding foreign against her tongue. Unnatural.

It takes seconds for the witch to appear standing on the opposite side the stream, possibly more concerned about Hermione using Bellatrix's name than the actual discovery made. Pointing downwards, Hermione reveals the hidden path realisation dawning on the Death Eater.

"But which way?" Bellatrix questions studying the upwards stream. "There will be civilisation somewhere but did they build upwards for better defence? Prevention against flooding or down the base of the hill in the hopes for hunting?"

It amazes Hermione how much knowledge Bellatrix has; how easy the witch has taken to living rough. She had watched amazed last night as Bellatrix stalked their food without use of her wand. How she built a fire with her hands and lit it with flint. Makes Hermione want to ask the questions and almost wishes they were still playing tit for tat.

"What's your guess filth?" Bellatrix comments checking the compass. "You seem to have a knack for this?"

She considers the options, not too sure herself. Depends if they are a muggle or wizarding community if muggle she imagines they built at the top of the hill. If Wizarding would they build down at the base safe from flooding with the use of magic. She considers sharing this logic, her tongue tastes the words prepared to share to help make an educated guess.

"Poohsticks." She wasn't meant to say that.

Never the less, the look Bellatrix is giving her is priceless and almost worth making this whole situation worth it. However, her eyes are drawn to the little sticks one painted yellow and the other green which is casually floating past them. Heading down stream, the sound of running and laughter makes her step behind a tree. Bellatrix hidden by the shadows as children rush past pointing to the sticks and laughing. Racing each other down the path, the shouting from the top of the hill from a woman possibly a mother warning them to be careful.

"Poohsticks?" Bellatrix asks stepping from the shadows.

"It's a game where you race two sticks, usually you stand on one side of the bridge drop your sticks and rush to the other side. Whoever sticks passes by first wins. Used to play it with my dad on holiday in Laugharne, Wales." Hermione smiles at the memory. "So, I guess upwards?"

"Up." Bellatrix agrees as she steps through the water, a charm protecting her clothes from getting wet.

They journey in silence up the steep hill, Hermione trailing behind the witch. She admires the view, watching the birds circle in the air. The loud clang pulls her back to the present as a bucket rolls past her feet, a woman scurrying from the stream rushing back towards the village in the distance.

The action makes Bellatrix pause, watching the woman rush into the distance. The stone path becoming darker as the trees bend and shade the small village in darkness banning the sun from touching. A shiver passes through Hermione who glances backwards the fear itching at the base of her neck. Her mind whispering to turn back, to turn away from the village in the shadows.

"Stay alert." Bellatrix orders.

They pass a man attending to his van, who watches them warily. The hood of his engine open his sleeves rolled up and the door to his van open. Revealing delicious fruit, vegetables and bread on display.

"Your brave," He comments on their passing, barely earning a glance from Bellatrix.

"Why?" Hermione asks ignoring the annoyed huff from the Death Eater.

"Village is cursed, I wouldn't go that way."

"How so?" Hermione asks stopping, ignoring the stomp from Bellatrix.

"Nothing grows there, no wildlife flourishes, I'm the only idiot who delivers their food. Every time I do my car packs in. Every time I have to push it to the edge jump start it. Turn back girls there's nothing there, except doom and gloom."

"Oh good," Bellatrix perks up her hand digging into Hermione's bicep. "Just my thing, come along."

"Thanks," Hermione says as Bellatrix drags her away shaking the hand off.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya."

"What did I just say?" Bellatrix demands angrily.

"The more information the better." Hermione answers.

Shaking her head, Bellatrix stalks towards the village, both witches ignoring the unnatural chill in the end. Doors slam shut, windows swinging closed, shops closed and boarded up. Still, Hermione can feel the eyes that follow them, can hear the whispers behind the doors.

Sky dark, hidden behind dying trees, rubbing her hands together, Hermione stares around the small village. A newspaper stuck in the mud, she plucks it free. Frowning at the date, only ten days old, she studies the houses. It all seems new, the whole situation feels new, fear in the air.

"This isn't the trial is it?" Hermione asks allowed.

"No," Bellatrix comments, analysing the situation. "Something else is here. I think we found where we need to go."

Looking over the Death Eaters shoulder she notices a boarded up bookshop with a big red cross painted on the door. The windows boarded up from the outside swallowing, Hermione's hand twitches for her wand.

"My wand." She says.

"Nope."

"Bellatrix."

"Filth," Bellatrix hisses. "Shut up."

She bites her tongue, a new anger she hasn't seen on the Death Eater visible, she doesn't feel like pushing the witch any further. Her silence is enough for Bellatrix who stalks towards the door wand drawn. She casts a charm around them preventing muggle eyes from viewing magic.

It dawns on Hermione as Bellatrix points her wand at the door, the witch is nervous. Bellatrix is scared about what they could face, knows something about the situation. It unnerves Hermione who thought Bellatrix was incapable of any emotion.

Pop. The door blows inwards, dust released making both witches cough in response. Drawing her scarf up, Hermione prevents herself from inhaling too much. With a flick of her wand the dust vanishes a light cast into the darkness, a boot crosses the threshold.

The door rattles to a close behind Hermione, a candle lit she stares around the old book shop. In awe, she traces her hand along the spines of dusty books, her every dream coming true. A cough from Bellatrix reminds her that they are here for something other than books.

"Stay close," Bellatrix warns.

They trail through the rows of books alert, they know they are not alone. Pausing to scan through books thrown from shelves, looking for a clue. The floor boards creak under their feet, the till sits empty, a spider's web covering the keys. Pausing at the curtain that separates the personal quarters from the front of the shop, Hermione waits for Bellatrix. The witch flicking through books, throwing one carelessly to the floor. Stepping close, Bellatrix slips through the curtain wand raised she enters the back room.

A stench hits Hermione, it reaches her even through her scarf, she winces jumping as she walks into a web. A large spider drops to the floor near her foot scurrying into the darkness. Can feel Bellatrix smirking at her, tries to ignore the taunt from the Dark Witch.

Stepping across the room, Hermione finds a tiny kitchen, a small sink and a run-down oven. Two of the hobs rusted away, a plate left in a sink, a draw hanging from the cupboard. A beetle scurries across the surface slipping through a break in the window.

"Found the owner." Bellatrix voice startles her.

Turning Hermione jumps, finding the witch leaning against the fridge behind her studying the picture. How long was the witch standing there for? Wand twirling in her hand, Bellatrix indicates Hermione to follow.

The sight is grisly, she gasps turning she vomits the contents of their breakfast up on to the floor. A snort from Bellatrix at her actions. Tears sting her eyes as she pukes, pulling back she swigs at her flask to remove the taste of smell. Almost great full as the witch flicks her wand to remove her sick but knows this is purely for the Death Eaters benefit. Bellatrix turning her nose up at the actions.

Preparing herself, Hermione turns back to the shop keeper, or what's left of him. Tries not to puke again as a rat wiggles from between town ribs to scatter into the darkness. The remains of the man, in his chair, glasses hanging on a string. Dust settled on the frame, head leaning to the side death has claimed. The wildlife has done the rest, the skin plucked from flesh, hand resting on an open book. The chair sitting next to the fire, no wonder the locals feared this house.

"Well found our ghost," Bellatrix comments, pulling the book from beneath the skeleton hand. "Death by boredom."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione settles her stomach leaning forward she studies the man closer. Jumping as Bellatrix places a hand on her shoulder the witch cackling with amusement as she chucks the book aside.

"Careful muddy, he might eat you. He does look a bit skinny."

"Don't you have respect?" Hermione demands.

"For muggles no," Bellatrix cackles. "What you looking for a hickey, I don't think that's what the rat was doing."

"His, not a muggle," Hermione responds, crouching, she spots the wand loose behind the skeleton of the wizard. "He has a wand."

"Touch it, I curse you." Bellatrix threatens.

"I… I don't think," Hermione stammers, trying to check the neck of the wizard, she carefully moves the candle closer.

"Don't think what?" Bellatrix asks casually.

"It doesn't look a natural death." Hermione comments. "I'm no doctor but his neck and shoulder blades, there seems to be damage to them. Like something has sliced through it, plus there's a bit a blood. Could be from the rats, but humans don't generally bleed after dying. The heart is no longer pumping, unless he was comatose? Maybe a stroke rats got hungry… Why are you staring like that?"

Hermione asks turning to the witch behind her lifting her candle higher. It's with a cold sensation she realises Bellatrix isn't looking at her but more over her shoulder, towards the corner of the roof. Her mind tells her not to look, Bellatrix is indicating for her to walk forward, to move closer.

She looks. A scream barely leaves her mouth as she ducks the swipe, feels the tug to her scalp as a blade slices through her hair. An unnatural squeal leaving the creature, she feels the air leave her lungs she is thrown backwards. Her back hits a wooden table it splinters beneath her as she crashes to the ground in a slump. Clutching her side, she flinches as a curse strikes over her head, Bellatrix hitting the creature full on. A roar makes her flinch, she scurries across the floor sliding into hiding beneath another table. A spell crashes through the wall dust spilling into the air. A rush of air, Hermione spots the creature a spell leaving it's lips it clashes with Bellatrix's. The house too small for such a fight. The creature moving at unnatural speed. Crunch, Bellatrix lands on the ground in front of her, the creature crawling along the roof.

Jumping to her feet, Bellatrix wipes the blood from her face narrowly missing the blade that streaks towards her, she reacts. Digging her tainted dagger into the claw like hand a squeal leaving the creature as it darts back into the shadows. Where's her wand, she searches the floor, digging into her coat searching for her back up, she turns around.

Her curved wand pointed straight at her, the cold eyes of the mudblood staring her down. The filthy witch using Bellatrix's wand against her, to take her down. Should never have trusted the filthy little…

A bright light erupts from the wand she ducks expecting the curse, hand reaching for her dagger. She will cut the filthy mudblood heart from her chest. The room engulfs with light, blinding Bellatrix, who covers her eyes.

A terrifying screech leaves the mouth of the creature, thrashing in the room, Hermione watches it curl in on itself. It's scaly bright white skin available, it screams in pain as Hermione holds the spell. The wand fights her every move. Smash. The window breaks apart as the creature escapes forcing through the boarded up windows and vanishing into the forest behind the house.

Releasing her breath, Hermione relights the candles in the room, not allowing any shadows, fearful the creature will return. She lowers the wand, Bellatrix rising to her feet rubbing her eyes. Lifting the sunglasses, she stole, Hermione places them on top of her head.

Bellatrix snatches her wand back, Hermione flinches as the wand presses against her ribs. Expects retribution from the witch for touching the wand.

"Ask next time." Bellatrix murmurs.

Wincing as a hex rushes through her system, Hermione rolls her eyes as Bellatrix steps away the room destroyed. The walls marked with magic, tables destroyed a curtains puffs smoke singing from a spell.

"What was that?" Hermione asks rubbing her side.

"That was… something I never wish to see again." Bellatrix comments. "We're here for something find it."

They work quietly, searching for anything and jumping at the smallest sound. Worried the creature will come back and finish the job. Bellatrix sporting a split lip and dishevelled state of dress, Hermione limping. Her mind running through all the creatures she knows off and nothing rings a bell. Bellatrix, however, seems to know once they pass through this, she will ask the witch what that thing was.

"Ah ha," Bellatrix pronounces, from the floor, lying on her belly looking under a cat bed.

With a bit persuasion, she lifts the floorboard, revealing a notebook, wand and map. Passing the note book to Hermione, Bellatrix pockets the wand and reveals the clue.

"There's a lever." Both witches announce at the same time.

Scurrying around together, they search for the lever, Hermione pausing by the corpse, she pulls the wand free. Smirking at finding it to be a fake ignoring the short cough form Bellatrix. She snaps the wand earning a surprised look from the witch as she reveals a hidden key. A hexagon shaped key which Bellatrix plucks from her hands.

Confused, Hermione watches as Bellatrix lights the fire, the action blowing out all the candles. Fearful she watches as the witch reaches through the flames that never touch. Revealing the key behind the fire, she places the hexagon into the slot. She turns it clockwise, releasing the lever. The Building shakes as the back of the fire vanishes revealing a different location.

"Portal" Bellatrix comments satisfied. "After you."

Hesitating, Hermione takes one last look around before stepping through the portal. The sensation of sickness taking over she lands on her feet. Staring at the busy street in front, a wizarding town. Bellatrix appears behind her wand pocketed they have made it through to the next level.

Releasing a sigh, Hermione steps away from the witch stretching her arms she sucks the clean air in greedily.

"What about those villagers?" Hermione asks holding the note book.

"They'll live."

Bellatrix shrugs the response off, cracking her neck. Guilt tugs at Hermione's heart, she feels bad for leaving the creature with the villagers however she finds herself distracted. Plucking a newspaper up from the kiosk, she swallows at the sigh.

"Umm, Bellatrix," Hermione whispers.

Frowning, Bellatrix snatches the newspaper from Hermione's hand, before glancing around. A curse leaving the witches lips, Hermione's face plastered across the front page. Kidnapped. It brings the truth home, that she is essentially kidnapped, held against her own will.

"Shit," Hermione breathes watching horrified over Bellatrix's shoulder.

"Fuck." Bellatrix hisses drawing her wand.

It's too late they watch the creature slip through the closing portal arriving behind them. It spares them one look, slick yellow eyes that regard them before it scurries away into the town. Hermione goes to follow, but a hand prevents her from doing so.

"We have to stop it." Hermione comments.

"No, don't you get it. It's like us. It's here for the Sleeping mosses, if we follow, we lose our place and will have to start again. Each contestant has their own challenges to face. I'm sure we'll bump into it again."

What could a creature like that want? What could it want with the Sleeping mosses? A question for another day they have more pressing matters like her face plastered all over the papers. It's movement in the distance that gains her attention, her heart soaring as ice runs through her veins. A strange feeling takes hold as gently taps Bellatrix's arm.

Growing tense, Bellatrix drops the newspaper turning to face the advancing Aurors, seven of them. They shuffle around stopping their escape.

"Arrêt." One orders as another indicator for Hermione to move towards them.

A slender arm blocks her path, Bellatrix preventing her 'rescue'. Not that she could leave with them, not without risking being trapped in this trial for the rest of her life.

"You are going to need more," Bellatrix warns.

* * *

 **A/n:** I enjoyed this chapter, nice to start the real challenges. Till next time...

 ** _Fractures the Last Champion:_**

So a run down of Fractures and how it would have gone.

Long story short, the Mirror Erised is a horcrux for mama Morgana. Riddle unintentionally split the horcrux when he stole magic from the mirror to create the cup. As a result this causes a problem for Morgana. Her mind starts to crack, she loses herself as the magic behind the horcrux breaks apart.

Hermione is the daughter of both Merlin and Morgana, not Harry. Morgana used Merlin to create Hermione without engaging in sexual intercourse, thus creating a sleeping cell that was released when Hermione was born.

Snape double crosses Hermione as Dumbledore's spy because of Lily. While Harry double crosses Dumbledore/Merlin as Hermione's spy.

Raven is cursed by Morgana with immortality to serve as servant to the Port Solitude.

Hogwarts burns to the ground during a fight, Bellatrix accidentally kills Sirius during the fight.

Raven falls to drugs and is saved by Fluer releasing her curse after Morgana dies, but she becomes mortal once more and no longer has any magical ability.

Fluer joins Hermione's side once Bill is released from Port Solitude.

Hermione stabs herself with Bellatrix's dagger to prevent any chance of having a descendant cursing her body to a point Morgana cannot fix it. This enrages Morgana who wants a descendant more powerful than Hermione.

Andy engages battle with Cissy.

Port solitude ends up being torn down.

Neville leads revolution uniting both sides.

James and Lily duel during the war.

James dies at Snape's hand.

Lupin kills Snape.

Tonks and Lupin die at Morgana's hand.

Luna sees the future and convinces Harry to swap sides.

Hermione defeats Merlin by getting Harry to kill her with basilik fang. Destroying the shell of the Horcrux for both Morgana and Merlin.

Bellatrix destroys both the cup and the mirror killing Riddle in the process.

Hermione rises to fight her own mother in one last battle, releasing Morgana from the broken horcrux. Gets one final meeting with her mother who is whole in the end. A thankful mother to be released from the curse placed upon her by death himself.

Hermione and Bellatrix adopt Teddy.

Lily becomes Minister of Magic and both sides crumble.

Hermione renounces her title and steps down choosing to become a teacher at Hogwarts with Bellatrix.

McGonagall kicks arse.

Hogwarts is rebuilt.

Harry becomes head Auror.

The Weasley twins live and continue to bring laughter.

Championships are no more.

The war devastates the world, muggle and magical kind destroying the landscape. The wizarding world becomes known and slowly they work together to repair and slowly inter mingle with muggles.

That's the basics of the story, obviously there is more I can't really remember at this stage. If you have any questions just drop me a Review I'll answer in the next upload. Sorry I didn't manage to end the story guys, it was one hell of a story to try to complete.

 _Till next time..._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n** Hey guys,happy holidays to everyone and a happy new years to everyone.

Warning: this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for over adults.

Disclaimer: No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

 **A New Identity**

The room lays in ruins, the bed frame ripped the carpet torn and the cupboard blown apart. The wind rips through the smashed windows, the curtains burnt and torn. The fireplace remains destroyed, dust covering the ground, tiles broken the once magnificent fire demolished.

A Slytherin symbol flaps in the breeze torn apart by the magic that lingers in the air. Anger remains in the smashed glass in the smouldering fire that burns in the corner. Hatred marks the walls in burns, the pictures of a family ripped apart. Clothes strewn across the floor, books ripped apart. Violence speaks volumes as the wand that struck with such vehemence still taps against a leg.

Teeth bite at crusted nails, he pulls the excess nail away chewing on it as he stares at the picture in his lap. A knife struck through the heart of the woman, black eyes taunt from the pictures. Cold grey ones return the stare, the knife twisting in the picture.

The nail crunches in his mouth as he glares at the grinning woman in his lap. His wand sparks annihilating the remaining bed it explodes sending shards of wood through the air.

"My dear Belle." He whispers a single finger tracing the pale cheek of the photo. "Did you never learn from the first one?"

The picture set alight, burning in his hands, he relishes in the pain, as fire scorches his skin. Ripping into his flesh he smiles at the pain. The smell of burning flesh taking him back to his younger years before Azkaban ruined his fun. He swallows his nail, driving his knife into the soft furniture.

"I won't go easy on you this time my sweet," He promises to the ashes. "Who is this little mudblood? Another lover? Did you not learn, you Blacks always did enjoy filthy things? Well, this time I will make you watch. I will skewer the little mudbloods cunt and then I will rip you apart. I won't kill you though my love, no my dear. Our Lord still has a need for you, but I promise you. This time you will never forget."

Rising to his feet he regards his wife's room the books he tore apart. Trying to find information, to understand where she went where Bellatrix has decided to go. He wanted to ask Narcissa but the slut always was smart knew exactly when to vacate the premises. Away with her dear Draco, another part of the country. His hands itch he wants the stupid bitch, wants to wipe the smug look from her face.

Malfoys always did think they knew best. He wonders what would hurt her the most if he got his hands on Draco and made her watch or Lucius. Would the infamous ice queen drop her mask, he does have a particular skill to make others cry?

The Dark Lord was not merciful though, the betrayal of his best. A big boy, his happy to admit Bellatrix is the best Death Eater. He understands the Dark Lords anger he was angry too. When Bellatrix didn't heel, didn't come crawling to their master. It made him angry because Bellatrix always came home like a dog to its master. He never had to worry about her loyalty, because the Dark lord had her under his thumb.

Now though, now he doesn't understand Bellatrix, she has never disappointed the Dark Lord. Never went against his orders, except for that one time. Along time ago but she learnt her lesson. Like all dogs, they just need reminding who their master is, it's just a matter of beating it into them.

His boot catches on something, something thrown from one of the draws. Bending down, he picks the tattered picture hidden in a destroyed book from the bottom of a draw. Three sisters all so young, Bellatrix arm resting over both their shoulders swearing at the camera with a big grin. Narcissa smiling leaning into her sisters embrace. His eyes are drawn to the other sister, Andromeda almost a spitting image to that of Bellatrix. Her gaze sharper, no smile on her face rolling her eyes in despair forcing the arm from her shoulder.

His fingers trace the middle sisters face, fondly. He misses Andy, misses their antics their juvenile crimes terrorising the locals. Always such a good house wife, always obedient except when she wasn't. When she took the mudblood and ran away. Can still remember Bellatrix's tantrum, can remember the curse she hit him with for siding with the sister. Still has the scar, can still remember the unhinged magic that tore through the Black manor.

The way the Dark Lord's eyes lit up at the magic, remembers their duel. Her father and the Dark Lord trying to stop Bellatrix from following her sister. Trying to stop her from destroying the Black house. Her father fell first hit with a reducto that sent him through the conservatory roof. The shock on everyone's face when she defeated the Dark Lord sent him tumbling from the rafters. It was Narcissa that calmed her that stepped in front of that curved fucking wand. That pressed a hand to the beating heart controlling the mangy beast and calming her down.

He remembers that day, the day he wanted Bellatrix as his wife, to control the mangy beast. To strip her bare and destroy any resistance. He wanted her to submit to him, they were good friends. They respected one another, he could take. He could force her to do what a wife would do. If only he knew, knew where her tastes lie, the slut she brought to bed. To disgrace herself, to lie with another woman, her anger at being told no. Their duel. Their fights, he vowed he force her to be the best wife she could be.

Such resistance, he craves that wand. Wants the wand to bury deep in her cunt and curse her to the core. For all the humiliation she has put him through. To hear her scream just once, all these years and he has never bested her. He tried for Narcissa, but the witch always knew when to vanish. Then he managed to get his hands on the one thing she desired most. A reminder to never disobey him. He engraved it in her mind. A promise to everything she holds dear, he will always be there.

"Rod," The door forces open, his brother appears pausing in the doorway surveying the damage. "We've found her."

Rising to his feet, he drops the picture to the ground, turning to his brother. Pushing his greasy hair backwards, he regards his younger brother, they are so very similar. Rabastian admires his brother's handy work, the remaining parts of the bedroom. Where Rodulphus settled, Rabastian still enjoys being a lady's man he always enjoyed taking another mans wife.

"Are you sure?" Rod replies twisting his foot against the picture. His voice gravelly he pulls out his mark.

"They were spotted in France,"

"How sure?"

"One witch defeated seven aurors, please. Rod, it's her, summon him."

They do summon him in the library away from the destruction of Bellatrix's room. It would not do for the Dark lord to know the Death Eaters were fracturing. They need to stay strong to show unity in the face of betrayal. Bellatrix has left doubt amongst the ranks if she has betrayed the Dark Lord then what hope was there for any one else.

The Dark Lord appears in the flurry of movement, surprised to find the brothers together, to find them both sober. He spares barely a syllable for either, resting next to the fire he waits for the reason. Waits to hear the news after all the Dark Lord has gone quiet since Bellatrix' betrayal. Rod has noticed the meetings are few, the orders barked and there is little talk. The cards held close to the Dark Lords chest. Even Severus is kept in the dark, no one privy to the Dark Lords thoughts or plans. If Rod thought the wizard could feel anything, he would assume the Dark Lord was hurt by the betrayal.

"She's appeared," Rabastian starts eagerly to begin the hunt. "In France my lord, Paris."

"How sure."

"One witch defeated seven aurors, had a young woman with her."

"So, it must be." The Dark Lord summarises. "Why Paris?"

Neither men answer because the Dark Lord does not like time wasters. Therefore, they remain quiet, both eager to follow the trail before it goes cold. To find Bellatrix before she disappears once more.

"Find Antonin and Greyback, bring her back." The Dark Lord orders pushing from the fire place. "I wish both to be alive."

"Both my Lord?" Rod questions, why must the mudblood live?

"The mudblood has valuable information on Potter, it would be prudent to keep her as a bargaining chip. Perhaps even bait, Potter always rash for those he loves."

"Alive?"

"With sanity," The Dark Lord threatens violence in silence motion. "Have fun if you must, but I want the both alive and talking. No repeats, take Greyback, keep him leashed. It would do none of us any good for Bellatrix to become a filthy creature."

"She's temperamental as it is." Rabastian jokes earning a smirk from Rod.

The curse hits Rabastian sending him to the ground, a subtle reminder that Bellatrix is still one of them. Until the Dark Lord has answers he will give Bellatrix the benefit of the doubt. Until then, their words are to be careful.

He vanishes in a puff of smoke leaving one begging for violence and the other revenge. First, they must recruit a wolf, after all, you need a dog to track a dog.

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~

She sits staring at the front page of the newspaper, wind whipping her hair around her face. Discomfort niggles at her neck, she feels almost star struck. Almost. Bellatrix leans casually against the metal trusting the railing entirely despite the sharp drop downwards. Looking up, Hermione studies the city beneath them the sky darkening and the lights blinking into existence.

She always wanted to visit the Eiffel Tower, she just never imagined it would be with Bellatrix Lestrange. Never imagined being on the front page of the paper kidnapped. Never imagined being awe stuck by the witch casually digging into chips and admiring the view.

Internally she fights with herself, hating herself for admiring the witch for the way she defeated the Aurors as if they were a pest. As though they were nothing, the madness that danced in black eyes. Hermione almost envies the witches skill. She watched transfixed as Bellatrix duelled with such ease it took her breath away.

She has never seen a duel like that before even at the Department of Ministry she had not seen Bellatrix at her best. The witch malnourished not back at her full strength. Yet here she was holding such power it took everything in Hermione not to clap at the end.

"Chip?" Bellatrix asks offering a chip to Hermione.

Shaking her head, Hermione resumes eating her pizza Bellatrix shrugs turning back to her food. A comfortable silence settles even as a seagull inches closer along the railing towards Bellatrix. Beady eyes eying the chips, Bellatrix scowling at the little creature.

"Your quiet." Bellatrix summarises turning back to Hermione. "Why?"

"That was incredible." Hermione hurries out, dropping her pizza in excitement startling the dark witch. "I have never seen a duel like that before. It's almost as though you could see all their moves before they made them. Your footwork, your wand Manship how? Can you teach me? Show me how you did that flourish..."

"Whoa, whoa there buttercup. Back up. I'm not your professor." Bellatrix replies unnerved by Hermione's response and batting away the approaching seagull. "I'm sure your meant to say something like, 'what you did back there was evil. Impressive but evil, you shouldn't have hurt those people you are so deliciously evil it makes me…"

"I don't talk like that," Hermione interrupts blushing.

"No, your lot more whingy. 'You can't do that Bellatrix. Why must you be a bitch all your life? Waa, waa, waah.'"

"Shut up, I don't sound like that," Hermione mutters crossing her arms.

"Sure, you don't." Bellatrix comments rolling her eyes jumping as a beak steals a chip. "I swear Steven if you take another chip, I'm going to shove one where the sun doesn't shine."

"You named the seagull?"

"No, he told me, you don't speak seagull?"

"You do?" Hermione asks confused, is that even a thing or has the witch really lost it?

"What's that Steven, ah I agree."

"Agree?"

"Yeah, he said if we head east, we can find somewhere to get a disguise and sort your hair out honestly muddy it's awful."

Blinking, Hermione checks her reflection in the window startled to find half her hair cut off during the fight. Well, at least she's halfway to a disguise. Steven squawks, nodding Bellatrix mutters something and feeds him a chip.

"Thank you, Steven," Bellatrix nods giving the seagull the rest of her chips as she dusts her hands from grease. "Also said we should encounter the next portal up along the river, have to get moving our fight will reach back home."

"He told you that?" Hermione asks in disbelief.

"He did… sorry, what was that? Ah yes, I agree."

"What did he say?"

"He said waa, waa waah." Bellatrix cackles.

"You're a bitch." Hermione groans, she cannot believe she fell for the witch's joke.

"Your face," Bellatrix cackles slapping the railing. "Should have seen your face ah god it was priceless."

Flushing, Hermione rubs her eyes, she is far too tired for this kind of banter. Still her lip curls at the Dark witch's humour, happy to hear the deep laugh once more. Unable to help the small chuckle that escapes her lips as Bellatrix continues to laugh.

Wiping her eyes, Bellatrix approaches, kicking the newspaper from view, she offers her hand for Hermione to take. Shaking her head, Hermione rises to her feet taking one last look at the view. Finally, she places her arm in Bellatrix's grip.

"Waah," Bellatrix whispers making Hermione snort.

They vanish in a blur appearing on solid ground next to a busy street. Chuckling, Bellatrix indicates for Hermione to follow leading along the street casting a charm around them both. They pause at a solid wall a few taps and it dissolves Bellatrix allows Hermione to enter first. They step through into a dark alley and realisation hits Hermione a bit too late. Bellatrix offered her arm for appiration didn't just grab Hermione. The witch waited for Hermione and Hermione didn't fight. Were they making some sort of process?

"Come on cry baby, before you scare someone with that haircut." Bellatrix taunts from the gloom of the street.

Then again.

It's a small little beat up shop they arrive at, both witches slipping inside, Bellatrix turning the sign to closed, flicking the lock. Settled amongst cushions Hermione listens to Bellatrix as she continues the heated debate with the owner. Stirring her tea, Hermione tries not to ease drop to not listen to the conversation.

The moment the walked through the door, the owner and Bellatrix had started a fight. Yelling at each other in French, leaving Hermione bewildered. An elf offering Hermione a cup of tea and biscuits she sits silently.

The aging woman approaches Hermione clicking her fingers she points to the chair opposite the mirror. Hesitantly, Hermione moves seats flinching as the owner cranks the chair lifting it higher. Candles flicker to life as the witch behinds her summons a sheet using it to cover Hermione. A hand running through Hermione's hair. Pulling a face at the torn hair, a swift shake of the head.

"Disgraceful," The witch mumbles. "Such lovely hair, why? Why do this?"

"She might be a mudblood," Bellatrix comments flicking through a wardrobe. "She still has some propriety. She didn't cut it herself."

"I can tell, do I seem blind to? You old goat. Be away with your horrid mouth and unpleasant presence let me work my magic. Heaven knows this poor chit needs it."

Groaning, Bellatrix disappears into the back of the shop dragging clothes with her. Hermione doesn't miss the eye disapproving eye that traces Hermione's own wardrobe. A pin pulled from messy hair as the witch prepares to work.

"I shall apologise for the rude behaviour of my cousin. She was raised better, too much time with feral creatures."

"Cousin?"

"Ah yes, can you not see the resemblance?" The witch grins winking at Hermione. To Hermione, the witch appears nothing like Bellatrix and almost appears twice her age. "Well in all honesty, how could you? I mean look at me, Aphrodite herself would be jealous. Where as Bellatrix, well even the trolls didn't want her. Now your hair my fear girl. I think straight? Yes?"

"Yes." Hermione breathes. "I've tried but it never works."

"But you are not me, let me work."

Staring, her fingers trace her hair, the hair that was once so very out of controlled. Now straight, Mademoiselle Nour had worked her magic cutting Hermione's hair level. It now rests at the bottom of her neck. She appears completely different, grown up almost. The clothes changed, removed the black garments Bellatrix stole. Replaced by ripped jeans and cream jacket she feels almost human. Almost.

Never the less, it's Bellatrix transformation that leaves her speechless, the witches' hair under control and tied into a ponytail. Wearing black trousers and a black waist coat, it almost surreal. The witch both manly and yet so very feminine, the blouse doing nothing to hide the breasts. A long black coat thrown on the back of the chair, both witches relaxing before they take leave.

Mademoiselle Nour snores in the background, lounging on her love seat, hand threw over her face. The stylist so very different from Bellatrix and yet so very similar. Both witches flamboyant, different and both excellent at their crafts.

Hermione barely recognises either of them, they could easily blend in with a crowd. The muggle appeal oddly suiting Bellatrix and it's this stage Hermione realises she has been ogling the witch. Turning away she shoves a custard cream into her mouth trying to distract her mind.

"We'll move soon." Bellatrix comments, sprawled on the seat opposite Hermione, playing with a cane. "During nightfall, it's too dangerous to stay the night."

"Shouldn't we go now?" Hermione asks brushing crumbs from her jumper.

"No," Bellatrix answers twirling the cane. "Aurors will be looking, best to hide in the crowds at night."

"What's worth all this?" Hermione asks watching the cane pause mid spin. "Please, what is worth all this pain? You remain loyal, but yet here we are? I need to know."

"Why?" Bellatrix asks resuming her playing with the cane.

"Because I need to know if I'm a…" She trails off, hours of doubt festering.

"A what?"

"A sacrifice."

"Oh please," Bellatrix scoffs. "Filth, if I was going to sacrifice someone don't you think it's be someone with noble blood? I would have brought my husband and not wasted time on the likes of you."

"Then why?"

"Because you are you and I am me."

"That doesn't make sense," Hermione complains. "Just tell me, what are you wishing for? What could make you sacrifice everything."

"I made a mistake when I was younger," Bellatrix replies. "I aim to mend it."

"Yes, you said, what mistake."

"I am unable to have children," Bellatrix answers pressing the cane against the floor. "When I was younger, I made an error. A mistake. I wish to fix it."

"Your wish is to have… children?" Hermione whispers in disbelief.

"Yes, when the Dark Lord wins, I wish to have my own family."

"Bullshit." Hermione spits earning Bellatrix's full attention. "I'm sorry I call bullshit. Your doing all this to have kids someday? You? In what world do you think I'd believe that."

"Careful Muddy," Bellatrix threatens sitting upright. "Your very close to a slap."

"Ha? I'm sick of your mind games." Hermione growls pushing to her feet. "Sick of you treating me like a fool. I don't believe you for a second, you're not capable of loving let alone a child."

The cold metal of the cane presses against her throat, forcing her backwards until she collapses into the chair. She gasps for breath, anger and something Hermione has never seen before glares down at her. Hurt. Bellatrix appears hurt by Hermione's words.

"You think I would willingly show this kind of vulnerability to you, to filth like you?" Bellatrix hisses angrily. "You may think me a monster muddy, but even monsters have dreams."

"I don't believe you." Hermione gasps, clutching the cane.

"Believe it, what else could I possibly wish for? The only thing I do not have. So, listen close to me you little brat, I hope like every other stupid fuck out there. I hope to have a family, to have a child of my own. I wish to mend a mistake I made."

"You're not fucking with me?" Hermione whispers.

"No, filth. I am not. I can show you the scar if your so inclined."

Stepping back, Bellatrix removes the cane, studying Hermione for a second before returning to her own chair. Rubbing her throat, Hermione regards the witch could it be true? Could Bellatrix simply wish to have a child? Even magic has its limits but ancient magic it might just do it.

"I'm sorry," Hermione says breaking the tension earning a strange look from Bellatrix. "I… I'm sorry for being judgemental."

"No harm is done Muddy, I only have myself to blame for the reputation," Bellatrix replies indifferently.

"No, I… I hate that." Hermione stutters forcing her brain to function. "I should know better; all my life people have done the same. I vowed never to be like them."

"Filth, I kidnapped you, I'm a famous murderer you don't need to apologise."

"I do." Hermione nods firmly. "I am sorry,"

The firmness of her voice startles Bellatrix, who regards Hermione suspiciously. An uneasy trust lingering between them. Any minute Hermione expects the witch to start laughing at her, to claim it all to be a big joke. She doesn't instead Bellatrix appears more disturbed by the apology than the anything else.

"If your telling me the truth," Hermione states eyeing Bellatrix closely. "Then I will help you."

"You don't have a choice." Bellatrix reminds.

"I have every choice," Hermione replies, she can easily sabotage this.

"What would your friends think to you helping the big bad Death Eater?"

Shrugging, Hermione glances to the budgies in the corner of the room. What would they think? They probably wouldn't believe Hermione for a start. Wouldn't believe Bellatrix, but what possible reason would Bellatrix have to share such an intimate secret. Sure, in some ways it could be to make Hermione feel sorry for her, make her want to help Bellatrix. But the dark witch already had Hermione's help, she doesn't need anything else.

"If your lying," Hermione whispers meeting the gaze once more. "And I swear, neither of us will be leaving this mission. Do you understand? No more games."

"I'm not lying filth," Bellatrix sneers not enjoying the threat. "I'd swear it on my lord's life."

Swallowing, Hermione pulls away from the staring match. It must mean something for Bellatrix to not only sacrifice her Lords faith but to swear on his life? It seals the deal, Bellatrix is telling the truth, maybe not everything. But the wish is real.

The squawking of bird's startle Hermione, Mademoiselle Nour jumps to her feet whispering to herself. As all the birds in the room start to go crazy. Rising to her feet, Hermione glances to Bellatrix who also appears just as confused.

"Leave." Nour orders. "My dear Bella, they have come for you. They are here. Death Eaters."


	6. Chapter 6

A/n Hey guys, happy new year, hope you all had a good one. Wishing you all the best and I hope this year is by far better than 2018.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for adults. Excess swearing in this chapter.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

 **Sun Rise**

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I wish you could have seen it with your own eyes, it had to be seen to be believed. The way she duelled, it was unbelievable, honestly Harry it was amazing. I truly thought she had lost her mind it's almost as if the magic takes over._

 _Things are getting difficult, it's not her, it's everyone else. There was this creature, I've never seen anything like it before, it attacked us. I saved her. I saved Bellatrix I could have left her to die, however, I didn't. I wish I knew why. Aurors attacked, they tried to save me, but it's not possible. I cannot leave, it's not because I don't want to, I want to come home. Something else keeps us here, we've entered something. I cannot even write about it, there's ancient magic so powerful._

 _She told me something, Bellatrix did… I don't know what it means, it changes everything. I hope she's not messing with me again, she does enjoy it. I don't know though she seemed different vulnerable? Can Bellatrix be vulnerable?_

 _I miss you._

 _Hermione_

Heart thumping, Hermione watches as Bellatrix slides into her long black coat, talking in French to Nour. The Death Eaters are coming, they are coming to bring them both back to the Dark Lord. To face Voldemort and if Bellatrix appears nervous then Hermione is terrified.

"Nour will take you to where we need to go," Bellatrix says turning to Hermione. "Don't stop, don't slow down and do not come after me."

"We're splitting up, isn't that against rule one or something?" Hermione protests.

"My husband is here filth, which means so is my brother in law. You will slow me down. I will meet you at the end. Nour don't let her follow."

"Of course, I shall keep her safe," Nour promises as she rests a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Bellatrix. If we split if we go separately through the trial, you know what will happen."

"I'm aware."

"You'll be alone, we both will be."

"I will catch up," Bellatrix answers fishing in her bag. "Wait there for me."

"How long for?" Hermione asks.

"Until sun rise if I don't appear then I am dead or worse."

This is a very bad idea, Hermione wants to protest, except the sight of her wand in Bellatrix' hand stops her. A cold hand grasps her own, her hand flat as the wand fits snugly into her palm, relief taking over at being reunited.

"Bellatrix." Hermione protests.

"Sun rise."

The door slams shut behind Bellatrix, a spark leaving her wand, sealing the door. Swallowing, Hermione watches the dark witch swallowed by the gloom of the night. Leaving a magical trace for the Death Eaters to follow.

"We should go after her." Hermione voices her concern.

"Your heart is in the right place; however, she is right. You are a liability. Her husband is a vile creature, I should know he is my cousin."

"You're a Lestrange?" Hermione asks turning to the woman.

"Yes, we are from France, did you not know? I always liked Bellatrix, she has a soul. I see her as true blood. Not my real cousins. They are very, very disturbed, in the mind."

"She's not safe."

"No, however, Bellatrix always knows how to handle Rod. You would be a distraction. Come we must move."

Following, the witch, Hermione expects them to go out the back door, except they are heading upwards. The stairs creaking and groaning beneath their feet. Following the swirling stairs upwards, passing the many floors littered with clothes and wigs. Pictures scowl at her passing, some wave, she focuses instead on Nour. They stop at the end of the stairs, a ladder that Nour clambers among unlocking the latch to the roof. With a heave the door swings upwards, the cold night's air rushing in.

Swinging her legs over the ledge, Hermione heaves herself out of the hatch. Feet splashing in a puddle, wand gripped tightly, she takes in the sight of Wizarding Paris. Hundreds of houses crammed together, rooftops leading a path towards their destination.

"Bois de Boulogne," Nour states peering into the distance. "That is where Bellatrix instructs me to take you. That is where we must go."

A violent bang in the distance makes the building shake, the plant pots tumbling and smashing on the roof. Turning, Hermione spies a flash in the distance magic. A duel.

"They have caught up, hurry now."

Swallowing, Hermione follows Nour, towards the end of the roof, watches as she jumps the small gap to a joining roof. Frowning, Hermione stares down to the wet pavement below a very sharp drop.

"What are you waiting for?" Nour demands.

"Isn't there an easier way?"

"No, this is the quickest. The streets, they move, the Aurors will swarm. This is the safest way."

Nodding, Hermione hops across the gap, landing on the rooftop opposite. She pauses studying the rickety roof tops the path they must take, heading towards safety. So many houses shoved together, no natural light.

Obediently, she follows Nour as she jumps roof tops, tiles slipping free and crashing to the ground below. Ducking below clothes drying, avoiding puddles and chuckling at Nour's jokes.

"Do you know why we're here?" Hermione asks Nour using a chimney to brace herself.

"Somewhat," Nour answers offering a hand.

Accepting, Hermione pulls herself across the high wall dividing the house. Soot laces her new clothes, she doesn't miss the way Nour shakes her head at the sight of dirty clothes. Smiling, Hermione wipes her sweaty hands, muscles aching from the jumping and clambering.

Crash. Both witches stop, glancing behind to the roof a few feet back. A window swinging open, tiles slipping from the roof. Are they being followed? Surely not, the Death Eaters followed Bellatrix, they can still hear the odd fight in the distance.

"Why do you ask?" Nour continues satisfied nothing is following them.

"Can Bellatrix have children?"

"That is a very personal question," Nour replies. "I am not on to gossip of such things…"

"She told me she couldn't." Hermione interrupts, leaping across a gap. "Nour, please I need to know. I need to know if this is another trick."

"Bellatrix would never lie about such a thing, especially to someone she considers,"

"Dirt?"

"I was going to say a stranger." Nour finishes not meeting Hermione's gaze.

"Is it true, she said there was an accident."

"Is that what she said." Nour scoffs. "That is a lie. It was no accident, listen to me child. My dear beautiful, Bella is a very dangerous woman. She is also a prudent liar."

"So, she's lying."

"About the reason yes, she cannot have a child not anymore. However, the reason is not her fault at all, it is not. She may blame herself, but it was not her doing. As I have said, Rod is a very nasty, vile and despicable man. What he did to her, what he has done…"

Nour trails off, collecting herself wiping away a tear. She turns back to Hermione regarding her through her glasses considering Hermione's worth.

"Rod took from Bellatrix what she holds most dear, what would you do? I ask you, Miss Granger, I ask for a favour from you when I have no right to. We let her down, we let Bellatrix down. Promise me, you won't let her down too."

Taken aback, Hermione follows the witch the words repeating like wild fire through her mind. She has heard that before, those exact words and it all comes crashing back to her. Sirius asked the same thing, in the same way. Could he have been speaking about Bellatrix this whole time? Not Harry. So, focused on her thoughts she misses her steps.

A tile cracks beneath her foot, she slips, a yelp leaving her lips. Her side hits the wet rooftop as she falls, sweeping downwards. She digs her fingers into the nearest thing, grabbing the gutter of the roof. It creaks under her weight but holds. Nour appears above, relaxing at seeing Hermione holding on. Summoning a rope, Nour drops the end for Hermione to take.

Wrapping her hand in the rope, Hermione waits as Nour ties her end to a chimney allowing Hermione to pull herself up. Fingers burning, she pulls herself away from the gutter, looking up towards Nour who eagerly hurries Hermione along.

"Did you know Sirius?" Hermione asks.

"This is not the time, pull yourself up."

"Please," Hermione replies heaving herself along the rope. "He was my friend, he said the same thing you did. I thought it was about someone else, but if he meant Bellatrix… Did he mean Bellatrix?"

"I. We met a few times, long, long time ago before he went to prison."

It's not the confession that makes her pause, no it's the glowing eyes from the streets below that makes her blood turn cold. She swallows, hands gripping the rope, as white teeth appear in the darkness. Large white fangs, as eyes glint with promise.

Forcing her feet, she pushes herself up the roof, gasping for air, fingers gripping the side of the roof. She lands with a thud, knees burning from the impact, Nour helping Hermione to her feet.

"We need to go, right now."

"Why the rush?" Nour questions brushing Hermione down.

A low pitch howl interrupts Nour's question, realisation dawning on the witch.

"Greyback, Bellatrix feared this…"

"Nour," Hermione interrupts the mumbling of the witch. "We need to move."

Shaking, Nour pulls herself together. Leading the way, feet pounding on the wooden tiles as they hop. It's the loud thudding of paws as they break into the houses. As Greyback climbs the side of the building heading to the roofs.

Jumping, she feels gravity pull at her until she lands with a loud thud on the roof below. A groan escaping Nour who lands next to her, leading their way across the roof tops.

"MUDBLOOD!" A voice shouts, she glances behind to see a Death Eater standing next to Greyback in wolf form. "MUDBLOOD! Don't run."

She narrowly misses the spell, the air rushing next to her face as it hits the timber of the roof. Slipping on tiles, Hermione finds her footing, jumping to the next roof, willing herself to go faster. To escape the pounding of paws, the spells that miss.

"We already have Bellatrix!" The voice shouts once more. "Come mudblood, My Lord seeks an audience with you."

Her heart sinks at the news, she shares a look with Nour who shakes her head. Reassurance they do not have Bellatrix, except the duelling in the distance has stopped. Ducking behind a chimney as Nour fires a spell back in retaliation.

"There," Nour points to the lights in the distance, an amber glow. "That is the park. You must hurry, there is an old church, use your magic to locate it."

"Your coming with me," Hermione replies clutching the woman's arm.

"Just in case we split you need to know where to go."

The roof they're standing on shakes, an old abandoned building, Hermione feels it give way. A grunt from the wizard chasing and a yelp from Greyback as they fall through the roof. Acting on instinct, Hermione reaches out grabbing the wall her fingers clutching. Her free hand digging into the Nour's jacket, a groan leaving her lips at the tug.

She loses her grip, but Nour manages to swing them on to a floor still standing. She almost wishes the fall has hurt the Death Eaters, however, she sees Greyback emerge from the rubble. The man pushing himself to his feet removing his mask. Dolohov. She remembers him from the Ministry. A curse clips the wall next to them.

She goes to retaliate, but a hand pulls her back, Nour dragging her along. Through a smashed window, they clamber through to the other side. Using the remaining sloping roof to slide down to the roof below.

Landing, Hermione spots a sharp knitting needle, fallen from Nour's pocket collecting it, Hermione follows the witch.

A gasp a small cry of pain as a spell hits Nour sending flying across the roof. Sliding to a stop, Hermione fires a stupefy at the charging Greyback. Flinging him back into the chimney a snarl leaving his lips. Dazed he staggers to his feet shaking his head.

Dolohov pauses the second attack wand drawn at Hermione he grins at her. Glancing between the wizard and the salivating wolf. Hermione considers her options. If she engages in a duel, Greyback will attack her, the beast snarling as he paces.

"Come now filth," Dolohov smirks. "We have Bella, what point is there in running?"

"If you have Bellatrix then I can go." Hermione reasons. "After all she was keeping me not the other way around."

"Yet you are all alone," Greyback growls sniffing the air.

"I escaped."

"You smell of Bellatrix, she smells of you," Greyback whispers inching closer pausing as he stops next to Dolohov. "A pretty little creature. I'd make you mine."

Stepping back, Hermione shivers in disgust, not allowing the man to lay a single finger on her. She knows Greyback's views, knows he wants to infect rather than kill. The very sight of him makes her nausea.

"Come with me," Dolohov says offering his hand. "Or I will let him have his fun."

"Go to hell," Hermione states.

A roar erupts from Greyback as he launches across the distance, tackling her to the ground, stealing the air from her lungs. She grapples for her wand, jaws snapping at her face. The laughter of Dolohov as he stalks closer. Fangs glisten with saliva, it drips against her cheek. Large hands pinning her wand and her hand above her head. A grin on the feral face.

She reacts, driving the knitting pin straight into the eye of Greyback. A yowl escaping the man as he falls backwards clutching his face. Blood pulsing between his fingers, he collapses crying in pain.

"Filthy bitch," A hex strikes her chest before the wand arcs once more. "Crucio."

It steals a cry of pain, sharp shooting needles they prod viciously at every nerve ending. A scream leaving her lips, tears leak from her eyes as she writhers on the ground. Every cell in her body feels as though it's dividing, tearing apart.

Hours seem to past, but she knows it must be mere minutes, as Greyback is still trying to pull the knitting pin from his eye. She remains gasping, reaching for her wand.

"I don't think so." He snarls pointing at the wand.

A red flash makes her jump as spell clashes against his shield. For a moment she thinks it's Bellatrix unkept hair blowing in the breeze until she realises it's Nour attacking. Her duelling not as refined, her spells bouncing from Dolohov's shield not making a dent in his defence.

Her arms like jelly, she pushes to her feet as the duel continues, a spell clips her heel forcing her back to her knees. A sneer from Dolohov as silent order remain still. A cry of pain from Greyback as he pulls the pin from his eye.

The duel ends with Nour's wand flying from her fingertips, forcing the witch backwards. Gleeful, Dolohov sneers as a spell leaves his wand. It hits a barrier constructed by Hermione protecting Nour. Anger replaces everything else as the wand turns to Hermione, she watches the lips moving. Knows she has no protection and there is no coming back from her actions.

A flash of colour, the spell goes wide as Hermione ducks, staring in disbelief as Nour tackles Dolohov. Taking the wizard by surprise, the chimney next to Hermione erupts, she covers her face as the brick flies freely cutting into her arm. A scream leaving her mouth as she watches transfixed witch and wizard fighting over the wand, losing their balance. They fall.

Rushing forward, her fingers dig into the wet stone, she watches as they fall into the gloom below. Listens to the thuds of bodies hitting the pavement. Disbelief, she cries out in shock, in horror calling Nour's name.

"Nour? NOUR!" She shouts until her voice goes hoarse.

"They're gone." A voice rumbles.

She dives to the side as paw smashes into the brick. Turning she stuns the wolf, rushing past the angry Greyback. She doesn't think, she jumps from the roof on to the one below, landing awkwardly on her ankle, she rushes forward. A roar chasing her, Greyback chasing her.

She spots an exit, sliding across the roof, she lands on to a cart on the ground. Her knees hitting the pavement, she rushes forward escaping the wizarding world. She appears into muggle Paris running straight into a muggle. Apologising, she pushes past them, feet pounding pavement.

A scream behind, a yell of fear she knows Greyback is chasing her. Not thinking, she spots a van with a low trailer pulling away. Running, she clutches the metal, pulling herself on to the trailer. Landing on top of screws and wood, she turns around. Staring at the charging werewolf, feels the van pull, ducking below the view of mirrors. She knows the driver has seen the wolf chasing them.

A howl breaks the night, as they drive straight in to traffic, eyes glinting Greyback gives chase. Knocking a driver from his scooter, a car hits him bouncing of his wearwolf form, a hand reaching for the trailer. She grabs the plank of wood next to her launches it as his face.

A growl, Greyback loses his footing hitting the pavement with a sickening smack, cars screeching to a halt near him. She loses sight of him in the midst of traffic, the van slowing to the speed limit. Crawling along the van, Hermione points her wand to the driver, silently ordering him to take her to the park.

Relaxing in the back, she applies basic field treatment to her ankle. Tears springing from her eyes for Nour hopes the witch survived the fall. Hates herself for leaving the witch behind.

It's the soft touch of the sun that snaps her from her stupor, the sun running along her forearm. _Sun rise._ Bellatrix, if she survived will she wait? Would she already assume Hermione has left? Am I alone?

She doesn't even wait for the van to stop completely before she jumps from the back. Thanking the driver who blinks at her confused. Rushing through the park, she notices a few people heading home, not stopping to think why they would be in the park overnight.

"Where? Where am I meant to go?" She whispers, anxiety taking hold.

Staring around, Hermione feels ice cold dread rushing through her body, staring at the vast park. Will Bellatrix wait? Is Bellatrix even coming? _Stop, stop. Find the church._ Forcing her shaking hands to work, she casts a spell, searching the park for the church. Almost laughing when her spell detects the charm in the distance. She rushes forward ignoring the aching pain from her ankle.

Passing the lake, she enters the charm an old medieval church amongst trees. The sun rising higher, she is running out of time. Pressing against the door, she almost cries when she realises it's locked, she casts a few spells. Nothing unlocks it, cursing she hits the door in frustration.

She spots a fallen ladder and a window, she acts. Grabbing the ladder, she rushes up the wooden step's hands forcing the window open, she slips inside. Breathing a sigh of relief, she glances around the church, disappointed at finding herself alone. Searching for the stairs, she finds her way down to the pew.

A howl in the distance stops her, closing her eyes she tries not to let dread sink in. Greyback has followed her, she's not alone after all. There's no sight of another living creature, no sight of Bellatrix, she will have to leave, find the exit and leave. Rushing to the back room she looks for the portal, searching through cupboards. Pushing plates aside, she finds nothing.

Standing at the base of the podium, she wonders if there's a basement? Perhaps another fireplace.

Creak.

The wooden floorboards creak behind her, she shivers, listening to the noise behind her, hair standing on end. Swallowing, she clutches her wand, she has only one shot at hitting Greyback.

Swirling around, a hex leaving her lips, a hand grasps her wrist pointing her wand upwards. The spell hitting the rafters, she throws a punch. A gasp leaving her attacker, a groan of annoyance, a hood removed, angry eyes glaring at her.

"Fuck, muddy," Bellatrix curses nursing her chin. "That's one hell of a hook."

"Bellatrix," Hermione breathes in disbelief.

"No shit," grumbles the witch. "I see you haven't lost your keen eye."

Despite the slurs and jibe, Hermione does the unthinkable. She hugs the witch, throwing her arms around the dark witch's shoulders pulling her close. Ignores the way Bellatrix goes rigid beneath the embrace but she doesn't care. She buries her face grief striking her numb.

"Nour… she. She fell from the roof." Hermione whispers.

A single hand presses against the middle of her back, reassurance? Acknowledgement? Hermione doesn't know, the witch remains quiet allowing Hermione the moment. Giving Hermione the space to pull herself back together.

Taking a deep breath, she pulls away wiping the tears from her eyes, feeling foolish for crying. For crying in front of Bellatrix, tries to get her body under control as Bellatrix watches her uneasily.

"They said they had you." Hermione manages to get out.

"They tried," Bellatrix replies casually. "I reminded them why I was the Dark Lords best."

"So that's it?" Hermione asks, will they send more? She wonders to herself.

"For now,"

"Will they come again?"

"Yes," Bellatrix nods standing tall in her suit as though she's just been to a party and not a duel. "Next time my Lord will come. He will not tolerate failure. I almost feel sorry for the fools, almost."

The door jolts, making Hermione jump she points her wand. She knows exactly who has followed, Greyback has chased her. The doors shake again as the wolf forces his body against the wood. She listens to the cracking as the wood splinters apart. Glances to Bellatrix who is studying the door in amusement, head tilted.

The lock brakes, wood shattering, Greyback crashes into the room, eye bleeding and sealed shut. Blood dripping down his face, fangs showing he growls.

"I will rip you apart, then I will fuck your dirty little cunt." Greyback threatens as he stalks forward.

"Sounds delightful," Bellatrix replies hand pushing Hermione behind the Dark witch.

A cruel grin spreads across Bellatrix features, as Greyback pauses anger disappearing as he notices Bellatrix for the first time. Hermione recognises fear take hold in the beast as he slinks in front of Bellatrix.

"I love what you've done with your eye, we going for the pirate look?" Bellatrix taunts.

"I want the mudblood Bellatrix, give me the witch."

"Nope, she's mine and you know I don't like sharing."

"LOOK at me!" Greyback roars. "Look at my eye. You fucking bitch."

Shrinking, Hermione clutches her wand, would Bellatrix sell her out to Greyback? Dark eyes regard Hermione who manages to remain strong despite the fear running through her veins.

"I don't think she cares," Bellatrix summarises. "Send a message for me though."

The spell lashes out of the curved wand hitting Greyback in the chest sending the wolf flying backwards out of the door all in seconds. Blinking, Hermione barely has time to think as a hand curves around her waist a portal in hand. She watches as Greyback charges back into the church. In a twist they vanish, the portal pulling them backwards, taking them to the next level.

~~~~~ _ADITM ~~~~~_

Fucking trees. Why does it have to be sodding trees everywhere they go. She curses under her breath leaning against said tree in disgust, she is tired of the fucking wilderness. Tired of this whole stupid, bloody fucking thing. The stupid thing they have only just started. She already has come to despise it, bored already with the stupid levels.

Her side twinges, she refuses to gasp despite the nerve-racking pain will not allow her husband the joy. Will never allow him the joy, knowing he might have hurt he will never hurt her. Not ever again. She made that promise to herself a long time ago. Pressing her hand too her side, she winces at the blood, grateful for the dark clothing. She could do without the mudblood faffing, heaven knows she's good at it.

Body still twitching from the hug, she glances to the mudblood who appears to be nursing her water. Bellatrix wishing for something much stronger, she remembers her bottle of vodka she swiped from Nour. Dear Nour.

Why did muddy hug her? The question repeats through her mind why was she so relieved to see Bellatrix. Bellatrix of all people, the one person she should be scared of seeing and yet she was happy.

"Why does it have to be trees?" Muddy says aloud between swigs of her water. "I mean why constantly trees?"

"The magic," Bellatrix says hoarsely aware she is losing her voice. She coughs, the action causing more pain but it clears her for now. "Ancient magic, the trials prevent anything being built upon the lands used."

"Then what about Paris."

"We all know the best monsters are human." Bellatrix shrugs.

Nodding, Hermione pockets her flask noticing the blood on her clothes, she pulls her top away. She's not injured not bleeding. Does the blood belong to Greyback?

Bellatrix watches the mudblood check herself for injuries, wonders how long it will take the witch to piece it all together. To know it's Bellatrix who is bleeding that maybe the duel didn't go to plan as she promised.

"Your bleeding!" There it is.

She bats the hands reaching for her away, not wanting the aid of the mudblood. No, she is Bellatrix Lestrange Nee Black, she relies on no one especially not a mudblood.

"Bellatrix, your injured."

"I'm aware." Bellatrix answers angrily. "We need to make camp, let's move."

"We need to tend to your injury." The Mudblood argues daring to grab Bellatrix's arm.

"Touch me again filth, I dare you." Bellatrix threatens.

"Your injured, stop being a nob and let me heal it."

Surprised by the language, Bellatrix resists the urge to laugh, it will do no good for her injury. An insistent hand moves her coat aside, she allows the action. Allows the hesitant hand to tug on her top. Rolling her eyes, Bela lifts the top for the mudblood to admire her newly acquired scar. It will scar, she knows this, Rod always likes to leave marks.

"Shit." The Mudblood whispers.

It's an impressive injury, Bellatrix will give Rod that. The cut running from the top of her rib cage downward zig zagging to her pelvis. Blood it oozes, soaking anything that touches, watches the mudblood try to heal it. If anything it provides a mere pain relief.

"It won't heal," The mudblood mutters frustrated at her lack of magic.

"Done?" Bellatrix asks sliding her top down. "We need to set camp."

"We need help."

"What, you going to find us a Grizzly bear? Be a good dear MR Grizzly make us a cup of tea while you stitch up my dear friend here. Please don't eat us in the mean time? Because there's fuck all out here muddy but us."

"I'll find someone."

Cackling, Bellatrix pushes the mudblood away, the witch forever hopeful. The action is foolish, she trips over her own feet, clutching her side she hisses in pain. She feels a hand grab her arm, she is quick to shove the mudblood away.

"Let me help you."

"Fuck off." Bellatrix pants.

She focuses solely on walking, except she's aware she's leaning heavily on the trees for support. Her vision is doubling and the path is impossible to walk. Too weak to push the mudblood away as she hooks Bellatrix's arm over her shoulder. Aware that she leaning heavily on the mudblood for support, that she has lost too much blood.

"Shit, someone's coming." The mudblood whispers pulling out her wand. "Bellatrix, I need you to stay with me. Bellatrix."

Her knees buckle, pulling the witch down with her. Her knees bashes against a root of a tree, her fingers soaked with blood. She's aware of a cold hand on her neck checking her pulse. Of voices of the mudblood with her wand pointed at figures in a tree. Flashes of light and nothing.

* * *

 **A/n:** So, I'm just going to say obviously, Bellatrix is hiding more... A lot more. Also this may turn out to be as crazy as Fractures or maybe on par. I mean, things have barely started and they're going to go south. REAL FAST. Till next time.


	7. Chapter 7

Warning: this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for adults. Excess swearing in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

 **Four Leaf Clover**

"My dear Bella," The voice is cold, the room dark. She's been here before a very long time ago. "You've disappointed me."

She's heard those words before, never with such vehemence, such anger lacing the words. The hand cradling her cheek is sharp, nails digging cutting into her flesh. She's done it this time, this time there is no coming back.

"My Lord," She whispers the words, she cannot see. "I can explain, please."

"You deserted me."

"No."

"Left me. My most faithful, no more."

"No,"

"Silence."

Light is harsh it blinds her as the blindfold is removed, the chains remain in place. She knows these chains, these chains her old friends. She's too dangerous to be held merely by magic. A grin it forms on that of her husband who paces in the back ground. Over her Lord's shoulder, she refuses to look at her lord, focuses her anger on Rod.

"Bella." The words a whisper a warning.

"I did this for you." Bella replies looking to her Lord. "Please."

"Begging never suited you Bella, your too much of snake for that." Her Lord hisses moving away towards Rod.

Her eyes adjust to the shadows to the other form in the room chained to the wall. To the blood pooling on the floor. To her dagger buried deep into the heart. Long hair caked in sweat and blood. Remorse it touches her soul, staring at the empty eyes that look upwards. Mudblood.

"I thought you would have learnt by now." Rod snarls, pulling her dagger free of the mudblood. "A lesson you'll never forget. Your no ones Belle."

The name makes the hair on her arms stand up, she hates the name. She is not Belle, she is Bella, not this fictional character her husband likes to believe she is. Not this house wife he always wanted but never received.

"No one but mine. Now she's dead… I am the Dark Lords Lieutenant and you, you are nothing."

The dagger swipes through the air, delving deep into her stomach stealing a scream…

She jolts hand swiping through the air hitting someone who stumbles away. The pressure on her stomach unbearable, she groans under the pain. Her body numb not reacting, her wand not in sight, she growls as a hand pushes her back down.

"Bellatrix, Bellatrix calm down." The voice is familiar, not her sister though. Another hand appears resting on her bare shoulder. "Bellatrix, it's me. Hermione. Calm down. Your safe, your safe."

Panting, Bella squints at the witch hovering above her, the hand resting against her neck. Glancing to another who returns to tending to her wounds. The last few hours returning to her. It's just a dream. Just a dream.

"She's a mediwitch," The mudblood explains to the witch currently healing her as though reading Bella's mind. "You have a fever, you're probably confused. Everything is fine though, promise. Your safe."

She doesn't feel safe, she feels bare her wand no where to be seen, her body too weak to even wield it correctly. Reliant on the mudblood, who some how managed to find help in the middle of a trial?

"How?" Bella manages to rasp out.

"I found someone," the young witch shrugs. "Like I said I would."

"Fuck me." Bella groans collapsing back down, trust the mudblood to prove her wrong. "You're a fucking clover you are."

Blushing, the girl pulls away snorting to herself, Bella glances to the witch healing her, not missing the gaze darting between the two witches. In all honesty, Bella couldn't have picked better than a bloody lucky charm the mudblood is turning in to.

The fever takes hold, they restrain one of her arms as she has tendency to lash out at the helping aid. The fever subsides eventually, the dreams pass.

She becomes aware she is sharing some sort of bedroom with the mudblood… with the girl. She admires her scar when alone, sickened to see another on her body, she pretends to be asleep that night the girl returns.

When morning arrives, she manages to rise to her feet, ignoring the slight cheer from the girl. Stretching her leg, she rejoices at the movement. Her hand snatching up her wand, she grins holding the walnut wand. They let her rest, but she fails to. Aware of the amount of time that has passed too much time that could have been spent on the trials. How many days has she stayed bed ridden?

She will ask the girl, her plucky little mudblood. Rising, she tenses as her scar stretches, heading to the wooden door. She imagines they are in a tent perhaps? She wonders how they managed to get here?

"She would be proud." The words make her pause hand resting on the wooden door, listening to the mediwitch talking to her mudblood. "Your mother would be proud of you."

"Oh, no. No, she's not my mum." The girl replies, Bella can imagine the flushing on her face.

"Ah apologise I just assumed with the marks."

"Marks?"

Swallowing, Bella grits her teeth, hand vibrating. She considers cursing the mediwitch preventing her from spilling her secret to the world. _Don't say it. Don't say it._

"Child birth marks." The witch answers the mudbloods question. "I assumed you were her daughter, it would make the age correct."

"Oh," Turning, Bella can imagine everything running through the mudbloods mind. "No, she's… she's my friend."

Bella snorts at that, can imagine how much it would have hurt the mudblood to admit that. To say it aloud.

"Well, I'm sure she's grateful. You kept her alive till we got there, without your quick thinking she would have died. How is your ankle?"

"Healed thanks."

"Good, perhaps you should see if she would like some lunch? Maybe good to get her some fresh air?"

Retreating from the door, Bella heads to her bed not fancying the questions. Mind running, how did the mudblood manage to get them here? Will she ask questions? The door creaks open, listens to the soft foot fall of the mudblood. The hesitancy, Bella pretends to sleep, hating herself for avoiding the conversation.

Listens to the soft clink of a bowl on the floor. A hand pressing to her shoulder, she tenses despite herself. Cursing herself, she's meant to be asleep now the mudblood will know she's awake.

"Hey," The mudblood says softly, Bella waits for the questions. "When your up for it, I want to show you something. It's awesome."

She listens to the retreating footfall, as the mudblood leaves the room. Curling into herself, Bella presses herself shut, hand clutching ancient marks on her body. She fights back tears, she will not cry for this again, never again. The trial will fix what she broke, will fix her mistakes.

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

Smiling, Hermione grins at the little boy playing with his toys, showing her his massive collection of dinosaurs. She winces as he splashes his dinosaur in the water roaring and giggling. Chuckling, she shuffles his messy mousey brown hair, resisting the urge to wipe the dirt from his face. His mother watches fondly in the background, cleaning clothes.

Running her wand through her hands she tries not to let her mind run with the news of Bellatrix. _She had a child…_ The news is shocking it feels as though everything has changed. Bellatrix Lestrange had a child? Was it still alive, did it die, was it stillborn? Is that why she wants to make a wish to fix it all?

"Hermione," Glancing behind, Hermione finds Jakku, the Mediwitch healing Bellatrix and the head of the small tribe. "We will be gathering in the main room for tea. Will you be joining us?"

"Yes," Hermione nods glancing to the main tent where it hides the big round fire and the bar area.

"If your friend has risen it would do her good to mingle. One can get lost in their own thoughts."

Nodding, Hermione smiles as Jakku presses a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Tapping the hand she watches the little boy run off to help his mother carry clothes to their small tent. She's not sure how she managed to get so lucky. How she managed to find this little travelling group, but she's so very reassured.

The cold air it clings to her lungs, her charm prevents her from freezing though. She watches the ice caps in the distance, as the water laps at the edge, pulling pebbles into the sea. Her bum numb from sitting, she stretches, her ankle twinging in pain. She managed to sprain it, now healed Jakku promised it would always remain weak.

"This seat taken?" A gruff voice startles her, turning she's startled to see Bellatrix standing behind her.

Nodding, Bellatrix slowly lowers herself on to the stone, drawing her coat around her. Hermione can feel the warmth of the witches charm, tries not to stare at the paleness of Bellatrix's skin. Nor notice how tired the witch appears, instead she remains silent watching the sea.

"You wanted to show me something?" Bellatrix rasps.

Hermione points upwards, ignoring the frown from Bellatrix, who eventually complies. A short gasp from the witch as she realises the beauty above them. Rising unsteady to her feet, Bellatrix stares at the sky.

"A river in the sky." Hermione answers.

It truly is, a raging river flowing through the sky, she can spot towns sometimes, even cities rushing past. A stream of the trials, Jakku said, they are out of place for the time. Neither in the trial nor in the real world. It's beautiful the river that carries on, almost a circle of life.

"How?" Bellatrix asks.

"Ask Jakku, she's invited us for tea."

Resisting the urge to help the witch, Hermione quietly leads the way to the main tent walking slower than usual to allow Bellatrix time to keep up. They sit amongst the other citizens of the travelling group. A loud atmosphere of laughter, stories shared, food passed around it even manages to bring a smile to Bellatrix's face. Wine, beer and alchol passed in plenty. The community full of interesting facts and survival techniques.

It's when the children show their tiredness do the community start to disperse, Hermione and Bellatrix remaining with a few of the main tribe. Jakku, two of the elders who help run the group. Jakku's son and her fearless daughter. Who stays to herself, swirling whiskey around her glass lying on the arm chair. Hermione fails to look at the daughter, they didn't exactly meet on best terms and every time they make eye contact, she cannot help but blush.

Bellatrix notices the tension, Hermione hopes the witch will just ignore it. She's also grateful Bellatrix is on her best behaviour she has yet to insult anyone. She has also referred to Hermione as 'plucky' rather than her usual slur. She's not sure which one is more irritating.

"Alright," Bellatrix says sipping her wine. "I'll bite, how did you find these fine folk and all their beautiful alcohol."

"Here, here." Rags raises his flask to Bellatrix's speech.

"She doesn't know?" Hera, Jakku's daughter grins wildly. "Such an epic story, how could you avoid your companion such a treat?"

Flushing, Hermione wishes she didn't have to tell the story, it's more embarrassing than anything. Swinging her legs, Hera's blade tucked in her blonde dreadlocks glints in the fire. A scar that runs through her eye brow quirks with enjoyment.

"Perhaps your ven has more pressing questions?" Jakku interjects.

"Mor, your no fun." Heta grumbles collapsing back into her chair.

"Like she's already packed her bag? Yours too Miss Granger," Glancing to Bellatrix, Hermione notices the wand twitch in the Death Eaters hand. "Relax Mrs Lestrange."

"You told them who we were?" Bellatrix hisses to Hermione.

"No."

"We do read Mrs Lestrange." Jakku replies revealing the paper a different one but her name still covers the front page. "However, we are not here to judge merely curious. Perhaps for you to understand we mean no harm that you trial is not in danger we should explain more about ourselves."

"You knew all this time?" Hermione asks, not once did Jakku bring this up.

"What can we say, all love a good damsel in distress." Heta winks at Hermione who blushes.

"So spill," Bellatrix orders ignoring Heta. "Why no Aurors."

"It's simple," Jakku answers with a small shrug. "We do not exist."

"I swear if you don't start talking sense I'm going to get cranky." Bellatrix snaps.

"Step down small fry or I'll open you back up." Heta threatens rising to her feet.

"Please," Bellatrix scoffs reclining in her seat she eyes Heta with despair. "You jumped up little hippy, have you actually used your wand? Or do you prefer to wield your big sword in the hopes to scare."

"Heta!" Jakku interfers. "Sit."

"Mor?"

"No, sit. Mrs Lestrange may have unintentionally helped us."

"How so?" Bellatrix demands, smirking as Heta slinks back to her seat.

"We know all about the trials, after all we belong to them. You see, our great, great forefathers came here, searching for greatness in the name of the trial. They however disobeyed the basic rules, they crossed one of the makers. Who in return allowed them the luxury of their wish but cursed them for the fool heartedness. Their wish became a curse, they become trapped they wished for wealth for their families. To own their own homes, to be the highest member of society. They cursed our whole tribe, we became in trapped in the trials. Forever travelling between the safe zones, never able to leave. We train our best to attempt the trials, but they never return. My daughter Hera, she is due to go next to free us of our curse. Our champion." Jakku answers nursing her drink.

"How does Bellatrix help?" Hermione asks.

"We were told the day a Blackness arrives, we will know it is time to try again. The darkness will come in the arms of another, an offering. Arms of an angel who deliver on to us a Black to remove the curse placed up us." Jakku answers. "You delivered Bellatrix to us, we have done the Black family a favour in healing Bellatrix. In return we have favoured the forefathers. We will now be able to pass through, to reach the end."

"Muddy isn't an angel, and I am not one to offer a favour." Bellatrix dismisses. "I'm grateful for the healing but that was Muddy's desire not mine."

"I did not save your life," Jakku smiles. "No, you do not owe me any favour Miss Granger saved you, I merely offered sanctuary."

"It's a good story." Hermione shrugs not meeting the dark eyes boring into her.

"No, you misunderstand. You have showed us another way to reach the end of the trials. You have arrived with an enemy Mrs Lestrange…"

"Bellatrix," Bellatrix interrupts. "Husband is dead next time I see him."

"Very well, Bellatrix we have never seen this before. Lovers, friends and family have all entered the trials. All of them relying on one another, but you chose an enemy. Where no loyalty remains, no trust can be broken and this perhaps could be our answer." Jakku nods. "You cannot win the trials alone, but if we send my daughter with another who is she dislikes or very well despise we could be free from this curse. Our tribe could be free."

"Or she could die?" Bellatrix mutters.

"My death is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things." Heta replies proudly.

"Preferably no one dies." Hermione voices, earning an eye roll from Bellatrix. "Is there no other way to escape?"

"You are too good," Jakku smiles patting Hermione's hand. "We must learn sacrifice to truly understand our hearts desire. There is no other way."

"I will willingly sacrifice myself the freedom of our people." Heta nods at her mother. "We have suffered too long, I cannot allow that to go on."

"Oh gosh." Bellatrix mutters downing her drink.

Ignoring, Bellatrix, Hermione glances to Heta who remains so self assured, so certain. She admires her, to be so confident in her own ability. To know she could possibly die in the hopes to free her family from a curse caused by her ancient tribe members. Meeting the blue gaze, Hermione wonders if it's the drink that has made her go hot, perhaps she should slow down.

"So," Bellatrix drawls picking at her chair. "Tell me how you managed to find these people. This epic story?"

Breaking the eye contact, Hermione turns to Bellatrix notices the smirk on the witches face. The raised eye brow, how long had Hermione been staring at Heta.

"It is by far a good story." Heta chuckles not aware of the tension or simply ignoring it.

"I'd rather not." Hermione mutters rubbing her face.

"You should not be shy for your bravery," Heta announces smiling. "It was a grand entrance."

Rubbing her forehead, Hermione remembers things a little differently. She didn't feel so grand when it all happened if anything she feels foolish. She felt terrified at the time and now Bellatrix will hear it all.

 _They both hit the ground with a thud, groaning, Hermione checks the witches pulse. The eyes sliding shut, she slaps the face willing the witch to wake up. A twig snaps, she makes out of a shake of someone moving towards them. Shrubs moving apart, clutching Bellatrix's arm, Hermione wonders if there friend or foe? How does she even know anymore?_

" _Bellatrix, I need you to wake up. Please." Hermione pleads, noticing the blood pooling on the leaves. "Shit."_

 _Rising to her feet, she stands over Bellatrix, wondering just who is heading towards them. The shrub pushes aside as large black nose appears sniffing the air. Emotionless eyes stare Hermione down, a low growl. Transifxed Hermione watches the creature lift on it's back legs sniffing the air, before two large paws thud back against the ground._

" _You can't be serious." Hermione whispers._

 _Staring at the white fur, Hermione prepares her spell, adrenaline soaring through her body, she stares down the polar bear. She cannot help the laugh that escapes her lips, of course it would be a bear, how could it not be? Pointing her wand, Hermione struggles with herself she doesn't want to hurt the creature._

 _Flexing her wand, she casts a simple curse, she needs to appear bigger. Stronger. To scare the bear away. Several replicas appear behind her, startling the bear. They shimmer in the sunlight but they hold all her replicas pointing their wand at the bear._

 _It roars, a quick spell snaps from her wand hitting the tree near the bears head, making it duck. Watches it growl. Her heart sinks, noticing two little bundles of fluff in the distance. It's a mother. She cannot hurt this creature._

" _Incendio." She points her wand against the ground._

 _It draws a fire, creating a wall between them. The flames licking at the fur of the polar bear that slinks backwards. Reaching into her bag, Hermoine dares to take her eyes of the animal, searching desperately for what she needs. Her hands land on the item, pulling she pulls the carcass frozen by Bellatrix. Their dinner, but she notices the slimness of the mother bear._

 _A deer carcass, Bellatrix will kill her, but she doesn't care. Defrosting the body, Hermione notices the twitching nose, knows she has the attention of the bear. Swishing her wand she sends the carcass through the flames. It lands with a thud next to the bears feet. Lifting Bellatrix with her wand, Hermione steps backwards, the bear studying the carcuss._

" _Go on, I won't hurt you. Please just take it and leave."_

 _A low growl leaves the bear as large teeth dig into the carcass lifting the dead deer into the mouth of the bear. It retreats away from Hermione towards her young. Releasing a breath, Hermione heads in the opposite direction, leaving the fire to burn just in case the bear decides to follow._

 _Her magic steals at her adrenaline, she settles hiding between the roots of a giant tree. Placing Bellatrix down, she searches the bag for anything to step the bleeding. Her fingers wrap around a bottle of vodka. A large t-shirt. She gets to work, ripping the t-shirt with bellatrix' knife, she creates a bandage. Tying the arms she creates the adhesive to hold it all together._

" _This will hurt." Hermione warns the passed out Bellatrix._

 _Unscrewing the vodka, she reveals Bellatrix's adomen wincing at the sight of the cut. She's going to die, it's the only thought that keeps her working. Taking a swig of the vodka she coughs at the vile taste before dowsing Bellatrix's wound with it. The witch twitching in her dreamless sleep. Apologising, Hermione casts as many healing spells as she can, she's going to need a blood replenishing potion._

 _Securing the top against the wound, Hermione uses the sleeves to tie the bandage. It won't hold for long. If Bellatrix dies, she will be left here alone, scared and with no way out. Tilting the witches head, she drips water into the slightly open mouth._

" _Don't you dare die." Hermione whispers, aware of the blood on her hands._

 _Talking gains her attention, grabbing Bellatrix she pulls the witch into hiding. Drawing her wand, she hears the laughter, a woman. The word potions gains her attention, peeking she notices an older lady carrying a bag full of ingredients. Another bag, chinking. Potions._

 _Grabbing the dagger, Hermione considers her conscious, could she rob these people? Could she really? The pale face of Bellatrix, the fear of forever being trapped here is enough to persuade her. Counting in her head, she inches closer, noticing a woman. Tall blonde dreadlocks scouting the are for threats. Hermione deems her a more of a threat, possibly the leader._

 _Swallowing, she doesn't allow herself to think, her feet move. Boots digging into the cold ground floor, propelling her forward, she stuns the nearest person. Sliding behind the woman, she presses the dagger against her pale neck. Forcing her to drop her wand, Hermione points her wand at the older lady carrying the bags. Aware of the other wizards all poiting their wands at her._

" _The bags," Hermione orders voice faltering. "And she lives."_

 _Tapping the dagger to the woman's neck, Hermione tries to ignore the horrible feeling. How can she rob an old lady? What has she come too._

" _Vi mener ingen skade." The old lady replies showing both her hands. "læg dit våben ned."_

" _What? I don't speak, Danish? Your bags."_

" _Skal jeg dræbe hende?" The woman in her arms speaks to the old woman._

" _Quiet." Hermione orders._

" _Nej, hun er bare et barn."_

" _What are you saying?"_

" _I'm sorry child," The old woman says with a warm smile. "What do you need?"_

" _Blood replenishing potion." Hermione answers glancing at the wizards. "Please."_

" _I don't have one with me, but my tribe does, we can help you, are you injured? I am a mediwitch?"_

" _Mor!"_

" _My dear, she is just a child." The old lady replies to the woman in her arms. "Dear there is no need for this."_

" _I'm sorry, but people have done nothing but try to kill me for the last few days."_

" _It is the case of the trials." The Old lady says sympathetically. "Please let my daughter go, before she hurts you."_

 _The witch twists in her arms, stealing the dagger and twisting the wand from her grip. She finds herself against a tree, the dagger against her throat. The younger witch smirks, flipping the dagger so Hermione can take the hilt._

" _Your cute." The young witch smiles. "Heta, this is my mother Jakku. The guy you knocked out my brother Rags. What's your name?"_

" _Hermione."_

" _Well Hermione, next time you better buy me a drink before you do something like that again."_

" _I've never done that before."_

" _I can tell."_

 _Flushing, Hermione tries not to notice the wink, nor how hot she feels under the gaze of Heta. Wandling forward, Jakku smiles at Hermione offering her wand back that Heta took._

" _Take me to your friend, are they close?"_

 _Nodding, she darts from view, fighting with herself, they wouldn't give her wand back if they wanted to hurt her? Would they? No she trusts them, she finds Bellatrix where she left her. Using her wand she lifts the witch carrying her towards the waiting party._

" _Oh dear, we must hurry,". Jakku states, hands brushing against the wound. "She has lost too much blood. Take her to the camp. Your ankle needs seeing to."_

" _I'm fine, just help her."_

" _She will live, you have assured that much."_

 _They lie her flat on a cart, Jakku clambering on to the cart, she begins to chant trying to heal the wound. She will live. She saved Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who kill Sirius Black. Her friend and the woman who kidnapped her. A nudge from Heta gets her moving, she saved Bellatrix Lestrange._

 _She should have left her to die._

"And that is the story of your little heroics." Heta chuckles, as Rags shoves Hermione in good faith. "We need to work on your hostage talk but it was a fine start. You owe her your life Bellatrix, without you the bear would have ate you alive if you didn't die from your wounds."

Nails dig into the chair, Bellatrix remains composed otherwise, but Hermione can see the storm in black eyes. Those eyes that regard Hermione coldly, she returns the stare. She saved Bellatrix… and her mind wishes she let the witch die.

"To Hermione." Heta announces lifting her glass.

"Here, here."

"To Hermione." Bellatrix's rough voice startles her, the smile unnerves her and her name falling from the demons lips frightens her. "What ever would I have done without you."

"We're even." Hermione answers calmly.

"We'll see."

* * *

 **A/n:** Apologies, obviously I do not speak Dutch and I a rely heavily on google translate and I'm sorry if I ruined the language. Also apologies for the late update I have been house hunting and it is all very stressful. I shall update as soon as I can. Thank you for the lovely reviews, you guys are so awesome. The story is starting to kick off, I don't usually like adding OC but they are related to some original Harry Potter characters. They were needed to move the story along anyway. More to come soon and all I can say is... poor, poor Hermione. It's going to become hell.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/n:** Thank you all guys your reviews keep me writing, and you guys never cease to amaze me. Apologies about the delay in posting was away not long ago and never had access to internet. If I disappear again it's just cause we're in the process of moving, so it'll be updated when I'm free.

 **Warning:** this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated for adults. Excess swearing in this chapter.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

 _Chains of Society_

 _"The chains that break you, are the chains that make you. And the chains that make you, are the chains you break."_

 _― Anthony Liccione_

Stretching, Hermione removes the kink from her back, grateful to be sleeping on a proper bed, but the lumpy mattress does nothing for her. She has managed to wake up early again, she feels as though she is in a different time zone. Perhaps they are? It reminds her of the time she went to America with her parents, they always rose before everyone else. Before the locals, she used to go for a walk with her father, getting breakfast at the local café.

Reminiscing brings remorse, for her parents, will she ever see them again? She tries not to dwell on this, instead, she slips inside the coat given to her by the tribe. Made from the skin of an animal, they declined to comment on which. She declined to ask, instead of enjoying the warmth it provides.

She slips from the room, not wanting to disturb Bellatrix, tripping over her own feet in the dark. Journeying through the tent, she passes Rags passed out by the fire, smiling she ducks under a low chandelier.

The fresh air is brisk, she inhales the smell of smoke and breakfast cooking. Another tent the hive of activity preparing breakfast, she trudges away. Trundling along the path near the sea, that laps against the stones. In the distance, she admires the ice bergs, that stand in solitude out in the ocean. She spots a polar bear in the very far distance chasing a Seal into the sea, she wonders if it's the mother she bumped in to.

Deciding to go the other way, she follows the trail noticing foot prints left by someone else. She wonders if Heta has risen early to hunt for the tribe, she follows the prints. Even as they divert from the path, slipping through parted shrubs away from the camp. She spots clothes thrown against some rocks, slipping into the alcove, Hermione wonders where Heta has gone.

It's when she spots the figure in the water, bent over. Swallowing, at the strong shoulders as they lift from the water. Tries not to trace the droplets of water that trickle down the pale back. The dark hair resting over one shoulder, magic it pulses in the water.

Hermione can feel it, as the water bubbles a hand snapping out a powerful blast sending a small tidal wave in the other direction. The water crashing heavily against the unoccupied land, a spell unleashed the water erupts. The air burns with intensity, heat it blisters against Hermione's skin as she watches in awe. The impressive display of raw magic as the witch in the water releases her power.

 _Black hair?_

The thought snaps her from her daze as intense black eyes turn to her. _Shit._ She fights the blush, fights it with all her might even as the witch in the water turns to her and the magic, she can feel it redirecting. She waves a simple hello, hiding her cheeks by blowing heat into her hands.

A laugh erupts as powerful legs propel the witch from the water, Hermione grateful the witch is at least wearing undergarments. Studying the handiwork on the sleeve of her coat she ignores the goddess of the sea as the witch walks from the water. Hermione's eyes snagging on the many scars lining what would be a perfect body.

Curses herself for not noticing the expensive underwear, cursing herself more for wondering why she would? How did she mistake Heta for Bellatrix? Then again, she thought Bellatrix was sleeping, so why would she think the witch was out here.

"Enjoying the view." The taunt is expected.

"Yeah, I love looking at the ice glaziers," Hermione answers folding her arms.

"Nice save." Bellatrix chuckles, drying her hair with her wand.

"What are you doing?"

"Drying my hair."

"No," Hermione replies she didn't miss the witch, almost prefers her in a coma. "In the water."

"Bathing."

"They have hot water."

"I have magic," Bellatrix answers sarcastically. "I don't trust generosity, forgive me muddy if you expect me to use all their things without considering the outcome."

"Are you saying I'm sponging?" Hermione asks insulted.

"Aren't you?"

"They offered us sanctuary."

"Again, I wonder why."

"Look, they're nice people…"

"And what would they have done to us if we weren't who we are? If we didn't offer them a solution to their fucked-up lives?"

"They didn't know who we were when they found us."

"When you held them at wand point?"

"Let's not talk about that." Hermione dismisses, taking a seat on a rock as Bellatrix stretches not bothering to get changed. "Can't you put some clothes on?"

"Struggling not to look?" Bellatrix cackles. "Besides you disturbed me, go away if you have a problem."

"I wish it was that easy," Hermione responds the comment earns a glare.

Rubbing her hands, Hermione reaches for her own wand, casting a charm to keep her limbs from freezing. Why is she still here? She could head back to the camp away from Bellatrix after all soon it will be just them two again. Stuck together once more, she should enjoy other company before she loses it once more.

Instead, she remains firmly planted, waiting for what? Waiting for Bellatrix to finish? Perhaps it's her stubborn nature, wanting to persuade Bellatrix that these people are good people. Or reassure her own concern that she did the right thing by asking for help?

"That magic, it was wandless magic wasn't it? I've never seen anything like it before." Hermione breaks the silence.

"Your fangirling is beginning to ire me."

"I'm not fangirling, I've just… I've only read such magic in books I've never seen it in person."

"Are you saying you wish to study me?" Bellatrix smirks, turning to Hermione who flushes a deep red.

"No… no, no I… err."

"Shush," Bellatrix waves her away. "You bore me. Too easy to wind up muddy, need to learn not to become so flustered. After a while of being dormant, my magic becomes restless even in Azkaban, they make you use magic. No one likes what happens when magic builds up and grows out of control."

"I've heard what happens."

"Have you? Did you know it's excruciatingly painful for the person to experience, that it's worse than ten crucios? Your blood boils beneath your skin, you can feel as though your skeleton is trying to free itself. Your body rips itself apart… It drives you mad."

"Is… Is that what happened, to you?"

"Are you saying I'm mad?" Bellatrix questions tilting her head.

"No, I think your sane." Hermione answers honestly, shivering in the bitter wind, she misses the look of surprise that crosses Bellatrix's face. "Honestly, I don't think your crazy, perhaps in the moment of a battle, some might say passionate."

"Some might think your wrong," Bellatrix mutters, pulling some slacks on, she ties a belt around her waist, a shirt hanging open.

Forcing her eyes, away from the witch, Hermione focuses on anything, anything but the amazingly dressed witch in front of her. Does she know? Know what effect she is having on Hermione? Is trying to unnerve her? To get under Hermione's skin?

Hermione tries to ignore the admiration for Bellatrix, the witch not ashamed of her scars. Proudly showing them to the world no sense of doubt. It's the crushing reminder that the scars are there because of the crimes committed. The actions against Neville's parents, the murder of Sirius, the thought makes her nausea.

"It doesn't matter," Bellatrix says finally snapping out of her trance. "The world believes in what it's seen."

"Don't you want to change their minds?"

"Filth, their minds were set the day I was born." Black snorts angrily buttoning her shirt. "From the moment I was delivered, the world knows my blood to bleed black like my soul. There is only one place for me in the eyes of some and that is six feet under."

"Why?"

"A story for another day."

"I do have one question, the mediwitch."

"Ah, no." Bellatrix snaps. "I'm being tolerant, do not test me."

Swallowing, Hermione settles on picking up a stone, perfect for skipping across the water. She wishes the boys were here, so they could talk, spend time skipping stones, she wishes she was a thousand miles away.

"I was reading a book," Bellatrix states out of the blue. "A muggle books."

"Right?"

"Something about Stockholm syndrome, you know of it?"

"Yes," Hermione agrees, frowning at the witch. She doesn't have Stockholm syndrome if she had her way, she would leave the witch in an instant if they weren't trapped here. "What of it?"

"I think I have it."

"You?"

"Yes, me."

"What?"

"Being here with you, I think I have Stockholm syndrome, I find myself changing in feeling towards you. A feeling that isn't disgusting?"

"What sort of feeling?"

"I find myself being influenced."

"Influenced?" Hermione replies hesitantly.

"Yes, the way you held people at wand point, I would almost be proud if you had managed to hurt them."

"That's not…"

"And that driver in France? Didn't you imperio him?"

"No… I didn't."

"Stuttering isn't very flattering. I think you're a bad influence on me." Bellatrix grins. "I feel I understand your motives, yes I think I have Stockholm."

"You're the kidnapper." Hermione snaps.

"You were the ones holding others at wand point, not me."

"You were dying."

"How do I know that wasn't you? Your messing with my head muddy."

"Stop. If anyone would have it would be me. Did you even read the book?" Hermione argues, angry.

"I see I've made you angry, I should go. Don't want you to hurt anyone."

"You're such a bitch." Hermione spits.

"And you filth are just too easy."

"I hate you," Hermione grumbles dropping her head into her arms a groan escaping her lips.

She doesn't move even as Bellatrix pats her head, gripping her knees in frustration as the witch cackles.

"Hate you too, you plucky little mudblood."

God, she hates this woman more than anything.

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~

Nursing her whisky, she listens to the constant chatter of the tribe around her, her fingers tapping against the table. The party in full swing, she didn't pay attention when they told her what they were celebrating. She hopes it's a wake, hopes someone died. Perhaps that Heta, little jumped up bitch could do with a lesson from reality.

The mudblood is laughing opposite her, clapping at something. Annoying fat faced twat who is telling jokes, her blood boils. Her hands shake as she clutches her drink. She hates being contained. Hates the weakness that clings to her, the way the Jakku watches her looks for any sign of injury. She is Bellatrix fucking Black, she does not have a weakness.

A cheer followed by clapping, perhaps someone did die. No such luck, just another dumb joke, she groans at the sight of stereo being wheeled in. Music, just what she needs. She downs her drink refilling it once more, closing her eyes at the racket from the stereo. Some muggle shit, she doesn't know the music, doesn't wish to.

She's only here because muddy wants to say goodbye, doesn't matter their bags are packed. Jakku promises to show them the way out tomorrow, they could probably find it themselves. Muddy could, she has a nose for this sort of thing, but Bella humours the old bitch. Mostly because she doesn't want to answer Muddy's question.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledges that pain still lingers. The cut ran deep, never the less, it might not be the wound at all. Her confidence remains shaken, how did she allow Rod to get her? Rod has never won, he still didn't, he lost the duel, but his dagger – her dagger it ran deep. Split her open like the deer she has stored away in her bag… The deer the mudblood gave to a fucking polar bear.

"You gave away my deer." She states coldly glaring at the mudblood.

"Yeah, to save your life though." Muddy shrugs, tipsy from her wine.

The filthy beast has a back bone, she's seen it a few times, tasted the anger. She really wants to see it, wants to see the filthy creature lose control. To feel the rage, her skin aches for something. Her mind aches, a reprimand. A curse, she feels tension too long she has gone without someone hurting her. Belittling her, her Lord not here to remind her of her place. Her husband not here to try to beat her into one.

Her nails dig into the table, the joy in the room it makes her twitch, the heated laughing. She misses her friends, her circle, the crude remarks. The games, the drinking, but she doesn't miss it. The thought is unbidden, forbidden to enter her mind once more. She is the dark lords most faithful.

She wants to miss it. She should miss it, yet here she remains not missing her home. Does she have a home, she lost it a very long time ago, lost a lot of things a very long time ago.

"Dance," The words snap her from her musings, the tribe has moved on to other things.

People dancing laughing and drinking, the mudblood is talking to her. Pointing to the small little dance floor where children have gathered laughing and dancing.

"What?" Bellatrix snarls, watches the mudblood recoil.

"I'm going up to dance." The mudblood replies. "Maybe you should mingle?"

"I don't dance."

"I said mingle."

"I don't mingle."

"Suit yourself."

She gulps the whiskey as the girl heads to the dance floor with her friend. Laughing as they join the kids, who jump and play. The whiskey cools her head, stops the rash thoughts, as a mother cradles a baby. As her older child tugs at her arm, a little girl. Her hand tightens on the glass, as the mother cradles the baby. As she hands her child a drink, as the girl who looks so very much like another runs back to the dance floor.

Crack.

Jolting as something wet touches her leg, she glances to her glass cracked in her hand, blood and whiskey dripping from the table. Groaning, she waves her hand, removing the drink, using her wand to reamend her glass and fix her hand. Rubbing her eyes, she decides to drink from the bottle, forgoing the glass.

"Nothing like child birth." The words make her pause mid swig. Jakku standing next to her. "People don't understand, not until they experience it themselves. Looking down at something so fragile, a child that you carried. It's daunting, terrifying that this little bundle relies solely on the mother. It's a task, some fail and some think they do. It's not for everyone, motherhood. It isn't for everyone."

"Wouldn't know," Bella slurs roughly. "Never got the chance."

Biting her tongue, she curses herself for her lose lips. Tastes blood, but refuses to acknowledge the inquisitive eyes. Tomorrow they leave for good.

"We leave tomorrow." Bella spits the blood into the fire.

"If you insist."

"We have a job to do."

"Does she know? This girl you dragged with you, does she know what she faces?"

"She does now." Bella chuckles smirking into the bottle.

"I only aided you because of what was promised."

"I know, the same way I would have cut your daughter's throat for the disrespect. But I respect the mutual ground." Bella replies meeting the old witch. "The same way killing me means destroying any chance the chit of a girl has a chance of leaving."

"She is innocence, this will destroy Hermione."

"The Moses destroy everyone. Besides I wasn't after her."

"Why did you take her?"

"She volunteered."

"I find that hard to believe."

Shrugging, Bella turns back to her drink watching the dancers, ignoring Jakku until she walks away. The chit decided to come, pushed Tonks out the way, fate chose the mudblood. Who is she to argue with fate?

 _She keeps her Moet et Chandon_

 _In her pretty cabinet_

 _"Let them eat cake", she says_

 _Just like Marie Antoinette_

Frowning, Bella listens to the laughter and watches as Hermione with a few others begin to dance to the music. Must be a muggle think she thinks to herself watching the little crowd dancing with one another spinning each other.

 _She's a Killer Queen_

 _Gunpowder, gelatin_

 _Dynamite with a laser beam_

 _Guaranteed to blow your mind_

 _Anytime_

The singing from the girls draws the attention of others, who clap along to the dancing. _I must be missing something._ The way the mudbloods face is lit up, she knows this song means something to the girl.

It takes her mind back, to days that were somewhat simpler when there was no war. Summers spent in the Black manor, sisters teaching one another to dance. Looking forward to their mother's annual ball. Sneaking to the top of the stairs to watch the servants decorate the house. The shopping for dresses, the talk of the town. The letters from friends, excitement for the ball.

The excitement to see another, not her betrothed, another. Someone who stole her a long time ago, kisses hidden in the garden. Secret notes sent and promises of a different future. Sneaking around her sister, the one who knew too much. The true Slytherin who found out the truth. The only one who kept the secret.

The betrayal of a sister, the summers anger, her anger. Uncontrolled rage, not even her father could stop her, not his threats his vile tongue. Not his wand. Not even her Lord stopped her, no another. Her sister who stepped in front of her wand stopped her from causing any more damage. Her sister.

The only one she can trust.

The months that changed everything, the hidden night her Lord searching for something never noticed her absence. Her absence nor the wailing of another. Not an adult. Hidden away into the night under a black robe taken by her mother to safety. To safety. Safety. _Safety._

No one knew. No one.

 _No one._

Her mother took the secret to her grave, her secret. Secret visits to her child, to see them growing up, a promise to never leave them. To be there for them. The night it rained in the summer, flooding roads. The night she stole a kiss to her child's head, a promise to visit again.

The betrayal.

The Death of her Lord.

Their Death.

 _Her death._

She died too, the biggest betrayal. It broke her, that Azkaban seemed promising, because what else was there? What else did she have other than a husband she didn't want, a lover dead and a child is hidden away? To never know its real mother. What choice did she have, the world knew her to be a monster? How easy it was to become one? To be stolen away to Azkaban.

A visit. A promise to make sure she stayed locked away for ever. The betrayal. They fixed her chains, the chains that kept her hidden that kept her away from her child. Her child who would never want their psychopathic monster of a mother. Insane mother. What choice did she have? But to return to her Lord? Her Lord that promised salvation?

Her betrayal to her Lord.

Her mistake.

She must rectify. She cannot fail him, can never fail him as everyone failed her, what choice does she have?

What choice?

~~~~~ ADITM~~~~~

Bang.

Jolting in her seat, Bellatrix snaps her wand to the sound of the noise, eyes focussing on the grinning Hermione. Hermione who is currently mopping up her spilt juice, flushed. Blinking, Bella glances around the room, to find most have left except for the odd ones collapsed in chairs or on the floor. Light flooding in through the window.

"Sorry," Hermione says mopping up the drink. "I tripped."

Not replying, Bellatrix frowns at the blanket draped over her shoulders. What happened? Her bottle of whiskey remains half empty, the cork long since missing.

"What?" is the confused groan from Bellatrix.

"You fell asleep with your drink," Hermione smiles taking a seat. "I brought you a blanket left you to sleep. Last time I tried to move you, you elbowed me in the face. You drank a lot last night. A lot."

"I like booze," Bellatrix grumbles, brushing the blanket off. "What time is it?"

"Early, about five am, Jakku said we should meet her in an hour. Rag is cooking us some breakfast before we go. I brought the bags down."

They eat in silence, Hermione browsing through a book as Bellatrix sips juice. A potion bottle empty, something to help for her headache. Pulling the bread apart, Hermione takes one last look at the room. The people that become a family to her, she almost wishes she could stay. However, she has another family to get back to she only hopes Heta can get the wish they need. To undo the damage caused by ancestors.

"We should go," Bellatrix states rising to her stretching the kinks from her back.

Nodding, Hermione shoulders her bag, following Bellatrix she gives Rag a quick hug on the way out. Smiles as he slips her a chocolate bar, a promise to see one another again out side the trials. In the real world. She hopes they see one another again, alive.

"Where too?" Bellatrix demands as she scouts the horizon for the leader.

"She said down by the bank, south." Hermione answers.

"Hermione." A voice calls.

Turning, she spots Heta walking towards them, dressed for the weather. Stepping away, Hermione meets the witch halfway ignoring the huff from Bellatrix who rolls her eyes in annoyance.

"You were sneaking out? Without saying goodbye?" Heta asks.

"No," Hermione chuckles. "I said goodbye last night."

"After you fell over."

"Let's not talk about that." Hermione dismisses.

Remember the moment the wine finally went too far and she tripped over her own feet. Heta helped her to the room a hug goodbye. Pocketing her hands to keep them warm, she ignores the motion from Bellatrix to get moving.

"A proper goodbye." Heta answers.

Smiling, Hermione accepts the hug, heart skipping at the reassuring squeeze. The hot breath against her neck ignores the shivers. She's just missing normal human interaction, Bellatrix as friendly as a cactus. Too close and you get pricked, any close she'll stab you.

Two surprisingly soft fingers cup her chin. Cushion like lips presses against her own, wiping her mind from any rational thought. Her body ignites despite chilly air, her hand's fumble from her pockets. Pulling away, Heta grins brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"That is a goodbye. I shall see you soon." Heta promises.

Turning, Heta walks away, heading back towards camp. Blinking, Hermione stares after the witch, she just kissed her. _I just kissed a girl. A girl just kissed me._ Confused, she realises she hasn't moved, flushing red she turns back to find Bellatrix smirking.

"Your drooling." Bellatrix points out.

Glaring at the witch, Hermione trudges over to the dark witch, subconsciously wiping her mouth. Glancing backwards she's aware of Heta disappearing into a tent. _I just kissed a girl._

"She's gone," Bellatrix confirms. "You can stop staring."

"She kissed me."

"Oh lord," Bellatrix grumbles heading in the other direction. "It's what happens when you like someone or you want to bonk them."

"She likes me?"

The statement receives a questioning look, shaking her head, Hermione knows what she meant. Heta's a girl, why would she like Hermione? Why does the thought excite Hermione?

"Aww, I can see your inner gayness springing free."

"Gayness, I'm not… gay."

"That whole thing would suggest differently."

"She kissed me."

"And you swooned like a damsel." Bellatrix mocks. "Please, welcome to your coming out party, surprise!"

"I'm gay?"

"I don't know, have it with a guy first."

"I have."

"Ohh, you were holding out, here's me thinking you were a sweet little rose. Potter?"

"Eww no, Krum."

"The seeker hunk? Very nice. How was he?"

"big."

"I bet."

"And?"

"I… we didn't do it."

"Why?"

"I err, I well I freaked out and ran away."

Laughing, Bellatrix clutches her side trying to catch her breath.

"Oh gosh welcome to your coming out party." Bellatrix cackles.

* * *

 **A/n:** Song belongs to Queen - Killer Queen. Love that song. More about Bellatrix will come out so will the truth. Obviously, this is a Bellamione but they have a long way to go! Till next time guys.


	9. Chapter 9

A/n: Thank you never seems to be enough to express my gratitude, but thank you. All of you, you keep me motivated. I will put out a new general warning so please keep in mind.

Warning: this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. **This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.**

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 **CHAPTER WARNING:** Mentions of self harm, touches upon mental illness, swearing and sexual reference in this chapter. Please read responsibly.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

 _Cause & Effect_

"Choices made, whether bad or good, follow you forever and affect everyone in their path one way or another."  
― **J.E.B. Spredemann,** **An Unforgivable Secret**

 _Dear Harry,_

 _We're not alone, there are others trapped like us. I shouldn't feel pleased, they've been trapped for a long time, however, it is reassuring to know this is real. That the trials are real, that we are not the only people here. I suppose that sounds strange, but it has been nagging at me. How could it not?_

 _Whole families are here, I feel responsible for them. They seem to think we represent a changing, that we are the ones who represent a new future. I hope they're not wrong. They offered us sanctuary, they saved Bellatrix's life… I saved her life. I wanted to watch her suffer, wanted to sit back and watch her die. But I didn't. I suppose I should feel relieved, I'm not evil like her, the thing is though, it was purely selfish. I need her to get out of this, she needs me._

 _I've done things recently, things I'm not proud of, dark magic. I threatened someone, threatened them? Me? Because I was scared, scared of dying alone. I've come to accept I might die, it doesn't scare me anymore, not now. Now I fear being trapped here alone – forever._

 _I don't know what I'm becoming. My thoughts, I like to say they're not my own, I know they are though. That no one is driving my actions but I and that is terrifying. I want to blame her. The monster that dragged me here, but surely it's all just cause and effect? She has caused this but I am responsible for all my actions, not her._

 _We will see each other again, I miss you._

 _Love_

 _Hermione._

The string tangles, pulling at her finger, trapping the circulation. Groaning, she reties the bag gifted to her by Jakku. Their supplies for the trip, Hermione objected the tribe have done enough for them, Bellatrix readily accepted. It caused a small argument, a small threat by Bellatrix and the finger from Hermione.

Groaning, she rubs her face, tired from the night before, the wine wore off. The fun and adrenaline from the kiss slowly disappearing, the cold reality that they are leaving once more. That they are once more heading back to the trials to death, to danger and she only has Bellatrix to rely on.

A hand snatches the bag from Hermione, grumbling from Bellatrix as she shrinks the bag and hides it among their other supplies. Ignoring the pointed look, Hermione is fully aware she is just trying to delay the inevitable. Jakku kind enough not to push, to tell her to hurry up. Bellatrix not so kind, the tapping of the wand against the thigh a gentle reminder Bellatrix is being rather patient.

"This is not where you belong, my child," Jakku says breaking the tension. "I would happily offer you a place amongst us, but you are still free."

"I know." Hermione nods.

"Besides she wants you gone so you can free them," Bellatrix comments with a smirk.

"That is not my meaning," Jakku replies tersely.

"No?"

"No."

Smirking, Bellatrix shoulders her bag walking away from Hermione and Jakku towards the shore line. Towards the fallen tree their exit apparently.

"Please be careful," Jakku advises resting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I will."

"We all face our trials, it is important to remember who you are."

"I won't forget," Hermione replies confidently.

"I didn't mean you," Jakku answers looking towards Bellatrix who casually curses bugs as they wander by burning them with her wand. "She is damaged. Sometimes, some do not get to choose their paths and that alone is a great tragedy."

"Do you know her?" Hermione asks.

"I might," Jakku answers pulling Hermione into a hug. "In another time."

Pulling away from the hug, Hermione steps towards Bellatrix who flicks a burning beetle into the water. Frowning, Hermione turns back to Jakku who is slowly walking back towards camp.

"What happens now?" Hermione asks the retreating tribe leader.

"Now you learn," Jakku answers folding her hands together. "Learn what really matters to you, the trials are going to test you both to your very limit."

"Joyful," Bellatrix mutters resting an elbow on Hermione's shoulders. "This has been joyful but we are going. How do you open this portal?"

"It opens itself. I wish you both the best of luck. Remember only in death do we understand what it means to be alive. And only by living do we understand what it means to die."

"Cheerful," Bellatrix mutters pushing away from Hermione.

Water laps at Hermione's feet the cold startling her causing her to stumble away and into Bellatrix. The glare she receives promises pain, but her focus is on the water. The sea that seems to be rising behind them.

"Filth."

"The sea," Hermione whispers.

Turning, Bellatrix stares at the rising sea, before whirling around to Jakku who remains standing on the top of the embankment. A hand tightens around the crooked wand, rising until Hermione clutches it, preventing Bellatrix from attacking Jakku.

"She's set us up." Bellatrix hisses, eyes darkening.

"No," Hermione shakes her head. "A blackness is coming."

Confused, Bellatrix turns to Jakku who is slowly walking back to her tribe. The ground rumbles as the sky erupts with a loud bang. Clutching the bag, Bellatrix hooks it securely in her pocket, as Hermione grabs her forearm.

Eyes wide, Hermione stares in disbelief as the river above them cracks like porcelain, the sun disappearing. Darkness, a terrifying cloud it sweeps downwards from the forest. Sweeping and eating anything in it's path. It engulfs the camp, darkness swallowing everything in it's way. Jakku turns, to regard them solemnly once more, a small bow as the darkness engulfs her.

Swallowing, Hermione tries not to let panic set in, her hand clutching Bellatrix's arm. What is happening? A trickle of water makes her jump, looking upwards she realises the river is leaking above their heads.

"The tree, grab it." Bellatrix orders.

She doesn't waste a second clutching the fallen tree hoping Jakku hasn't lied to them, that this isn't their demise. Her throat runs dry, the hair on her neck stand on edge as the darkness rushes towards them. The sea rising behind them, lifting so very high into the sky as though a tsnuamai.

"Don't let go." Bellatrix orders.

There is no time to respond as Bellatrix pulls close, one firm arm going around Hermione's shoulder securing her to the strong body. She doesn't think merely reacts hands clutching at Bellatrix as the darkness rushes towards them and the wave comes crashing down.

"Deep breath."

She takes one until her lungs are full and she nearly chokes.

She doesn't let go.

Until nothing.

Nothing.

A strange feeling, drifting. Her body is moving, drifting on it's own, without conscious thought. Until the need to breath, it breaks her spell, her legs start moving. Her eyes snap open. She realises she spinning. In a circle, moving with such speed. Except she's not alone, the arm still firmly planted, holding her tight.

The light is blinding, distorting, the fast feeling of falling. She clutches at the body, her lungs bursting, begging for air.

She feels the exact moment the vortex vanishes, the exact moment they land in water. An arm pulling her upwards she bursts through the water gasping for air. Ears ringing hands flailing for purchase. She splutters choking on the taste of salt, an insistent arm pulling at her. Tugging her towards the embankment. Her clothes weighing her down forces her arms to work. Together they break the surface of the water collapsing against the sand.

Coughing and spluttering, she rolls on to her back staring upwards towards the blistering sun. Groaning, Bellatrix pushes herself upwards resting her arms on her knees. Mimicking the witch, Hermione stares around at their location. Sand. Nothing but sand.

"Right," Bellatrix coughs spitting phlegm into the sand. "We follow the sea until we reach…"

A loud gurgling noise gains their attention as the sea spits and surges against the shoreline. Tensing, Hermione wonders if they are once more going back, to be pulled back in. It doesn't happen, they stare in disbelief as they watch the sea disappear, in a blink it's gone. Leaving only sand and nothing else.

"Fuck." Bellatrix hisses rubbing her face. "FUCK!"

Wincing, Hermione watches as Bellatrix rises to her feet kicking the ground. They're in a dessert in the middle of a dessert. In the middle of nowhere with blistering heat that has already dried Hermione's clothes. Causing sweat to drip down her back she slides out of the heavy coat.

"FUCK!" Bellatrix shouts throwing a spell in frustration.

Rising to her feet, Hermione tries not to let the panic set in, dusting herself down. She stares around at the vast emptiness. There's nothing. Nothing.

"On the plus side," Hermione comments brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"What could possibly be a positive in this situation?" Bellatrix snaps.

"There's no trees."

The muscle beneath Bellatrix eye twitches as she stares at Hermione. The gaze of disbelief and annoyance mingling into something unrecognisable. The slap makes her jump. The surprise hurting more than the actual slap.

"That's for trusting those fuckers."

"This isn't their fault," Hermione argues.

"No? You don't think we could have gone with them to the next place instead of being sent to this shithole? How do you know their only way out isn't sacrificing us?"

"Well, I trust them."

"Oh, listen to the horny teen. Yes, how could the bitch who you held at knife point possibly be playing me? Think with your head in future muddy, not your hormones. Bloody cockfodder."

"Your disgusting," Hermione replies.

"I merely speak the truth don't like it should have stayed with your gypsy bitch."

"I should have left you to die."

"Yes, you should have, but here you are the weak and the dumb with the big bad death eater."

"Fuck you."

"Save that for your girlfriend."

"Least she has a purpose unlike you!"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard, you know what's funny? You do have Stockholm syndrome except it's not me, it's your stupid fucking Lord."

"Watch your tongue!"

"Please, he can't even beat a teenager!" Hermione fumes. "How pathetic. Here you are you have more skill than he does but you follow him around like a scorned puppy. You ever think the only reason he keeps you by his side? Is that his scared you could beat him in a duel? Like they say keep your friends close but your enemies closer!"

In retrospect, she could have handled the situation better. Even the pain of the crucio and the scream leaving her throat doesn't help release the burden. As her nerve's endings catch fire, her body crumples to the ground, she relishes in the pain. Because she knows this is some sort of redemption for what she has done. She needs something to remind her that Bellatrix is evil.

That Hermione's crimes cannot go unnoticed, her acts have reprimands. That she should have killed Bellatrix, shouldn't she? She was right to trust those people and wrong to hold them at wand point. Wrong to imperio the muggle in Paris. Because if she was right to do all that, then everything she has learnt about the wizarding world is wrong. She cannot handle that so she plays at enemies because it's safer. Safer than thinking Bellatrix isn't the bad guy she is led to believe.

Curling in on her self she is aware the crucio doesn't last as long as she thought it would. That Bellatrix is cursing and muttering to herself. A boot kicking the sand. She clutches her knees to her chest buries her face away from the witch from the situation. Was this her way of escaping? Hoping that Bellatrix will just end her, so she doesn't have to face the trials anymore. She's discovering more about herself than she thought was possibly and it makes her balk.

She tenses as she feels Bellatrix collapse next to her backs against one another. Can feel the movement as Bellatrix pulls her knees to her chest sitting behind Hermione. Guilt it tugs away at Hermione even more, for playing on Bellatrix's insecurities. For using Bellatrix to relieve some pain and it makes Hermione feel ten times worse.

A hand presses against her collarbone, her nerve endings hypersensitive she cannot help but jump at the touch. The hand flinches, before settling more securely, resting firmly on her collarbone. It hurts, even more, to know that this is remorse. Bellatrix is showing remorse for her actions but unable to talk because that would make her vulnerable. The same way Bellatrix pretends her injuries haven't slowed her down, that they don't hurt.

It hurts more because if she admits it. It means Hermione cares, she cares for Bellatrix. She doesn't want to hurt the witch, doesn't want to fight. She was generally worried about the witch dying, that she didn't save Bellatrix because she was scared of being alone. She did it because it was Bellatrix, the quirky, extremely talented and funny witch. Her mind rages with itself, here sits the killer of her friend but the woman she saved from dying. The woman she couldn't let die and here Hermione is the failed friend who could have had revenge for so many.

The hate manifests more because she takes comfort in the warmth of Bellatrix. That she finds comfort in the witch being so close. That this whole situation is so fucked up, what would her friends think? What would the order think? That she, Hermione Granger cared for Bellatrix, would almost class her as a friend, almost. What did that make her? What did that make Bellatrix?

The hand squeezes before withdrawing, she almost goes to protest to stop Bellatrix from pulling away. Until a potion lands next to her, a way to take the edge of the pain. Bellatrix doesn't move away merely stays sitting in silence.

 _Is this a game?_ The thought that Bellatrix knows how to break people, to hurt them then offer comfort sends shock through her system. She knows Bellatrix is a master manipulator. Knows how to play people, the carrot and the stick technique. This could easily be another move to get in Hermione's head, to bring pain and offer comfort all in one. Except she doesn't believe it because Bellatrix just feels tired. Tired of all this.

They both are, tired of the trials, too tense to keep fighting one another, it exhausting. Permanently exhausting to keep going at each other's throats.

"I understand," Bellatrix says breaking the silence. "Riling me up though will not help nor is it sensible."

Is Hermione the master manipulator? Didn't she just push all of Bellatrix's buttons to have some sort of pain, to help remind herself what Bellatrix is capable of?

"This situation is fucked," Bellatrix sighs. "Royally fucked. We can't keep fighting one another."

"I know."

Nodding, Bellatrix takes a breath, it makes Hermione wonder how hard this must be for the witch. They are enemies, opposite sides, have such vastly different opinions and Bellatrix was raised to hate. To despise anyone who wasn't a pureblood.

"There needs to be a truce." Bellatrix continues. "As amusing as it is to hurt you, I cannot be your punishing stick."

"Your so good at it." Hermione goes for humour because it's what they do best.

"Obviously," Bellatrix shrugs with pride. "It…"

Hermione pauses as Bellatrix trails off, wondering how the witch know what Hermione is doing? How did she know? Was it so obvious or is it because Bellatrix has been here too? Has Bellatrix used pain to mask failure, to mask emotional pain by causing physical pain, because it's easier? Physical pain can be explained and controlled.

"So, truce?" Bellatrix asks changing her original question.

"Truce."

"Good, come on. I'm baking here black doesn't go well with the sun."

Smirking, Hermione allows Bellatrix to drag her to her feet, an uneasy truce sitting between them. It feels odd, but they ignore it as Hermione gulps the potion and Bellatrix sheds her coat. A small nod they decide to head to the mountains in the distance for an advantage point and to see where they may actually be.

~~~~~ _ADITM~~~~~_

 _Giggling, she carries her jar through the house, she caught the purple butterfly. Proudly displayed in her jar for her nan to see. Her nan who got bored of her reading took her out to the garden to explore. Personally, she would have preferred to stay in and read but she did enjoy herself. Her nana who pretended to be a monster and chase her through the garden._

 _Left her to her own devices as she went to answer the phone, left her to catch the butterflies. She honestly cannot wait for school to start back up as much as she loves spending time with her nana, she misses studying._

 _Standing in the living room she wonders how her nana has managed to tidy it all so quickly? They left the paint, colouring books and books everywhere. Now the room is spotless, she wonders at this. Placing her jar on the table wandering in search of her nana. She heads to the kitchen, pulling juice from the shelf she sips it. How does her nana always manage to vanish in the house it isn't very big and she still manages it?_

 _The floor boards creak beneath her feet, she pauses, she swears the newspaper just moved? Shaking her head, she 's spent too long with nana listening to her silly stories of creatures, goblins and magic. Her mother always reminder Hermione not to fill her head with nonsense._

 _She likes the stories, but she has yet to see anything that proves it all real. Without proof, without seeing it with her own eyes how can she believe what her nana says. Her friends at school laugh at her when she mentioned creatures. They used to mock her until she stopped talking about it and kept reading her books._

 _Nana doesn't understand though, "just ignore it" she'll say. It doesn't work though not when they pick on her in PE, not when they call her names in the playground. Although they haven't picked on her in a while now everyone calls her a witch. Because of that weird moment, when they were bullying her and the lights burst over the head and the windows blew out. They said her eyes went black they called her witch; didn't they know it was a short circuit of the fuses. The old electricity caused the circuits to blow, the windows opened because it was windy. Her eyes dilatated cause they were thrown into the dark not because she has 'magic'._

 _They don't listen though, she doesn't acknowledge the little voice that reminds her fingers went fuzzy. She pushes it down with logic, there was static in the air, it would be weird for her fingers not to cause friction. Human beings are living conduits of electricity its why sharks are attracted to people in the water because they give of pulses of electricity._

 _Stupid._

 _She sneers at her glass, she hates stupid people. Hates that they hate her because she spends time researching. Why can't she just be popular, she tried watching the shows they watched but they're all pointless._

" _Hermione."_

 _Stopping, Hermione glances towards the voice, to the room that is usually locked. The door ajar, she steps closer, her nana's study. She always promised not to go in, but the door is unlocked. Nana is missing perhaps she is hurt?_

 _Gently, she pushes the door open, confused to find the room larger than she expected. An old fireplace to the left and row upon rows of books. Old, really old books. Why did nana keep this from her? Why does nana have two separate libraries? She winces as the floorboard creaks, staring at the rows upon rows of books. How does this all fit in the small room? Why is the room bigger than the outside it's like a Tardis?_

 _A strange powder sits next to the fireplace, she ignores it walking further into the room. Pausing when she hears muttering, leaning closer she can almost swear she can hear the books muttering. It's official she's lost it with boredom._

" _Hermione…"_

 _Following the sound, she finds a glass case, a small little glass. A small snow globe, except there's no snow. Instead, a strange swirling of smoke spins inside the glass. She stares hands itching to twist the globe upside down._

" _One's journey resides in that of another…"_

 _A hand appears closing the case making Hermione jump finding her nana standing next to her. A tired smile as the hand locks the case. Eyes glancing to the forbidden objects a strange bone, a dagger, an old locket and something hidden in a box. A ring?_

" _I'm sorry Nana." Hermione apologies._

" _Nonsense what is the point of youth if you don't explore." Nana winks taking Hermione's hand. "Now how about I fix some supper before we watch who wants to be a millionaire?"_

" _Yes!"_

" _Good."_

 _Smiling, Hermione lets her nana lead her from the room, frowning at the soot of her nana's trousers. Notices a spark from the fireplace? Why does her nana have soot on her? Why is the fire lit in the middle of summer? The questions roll around her mind as her nana locks the door, heading to the kitchen._

" _Where were you?" Hermione asks hopping on to a seat._

" _I popped out to see a friend, she said it was urgent, lost her cat the poor thing. It was right there all along. She's a teacher this friend, you might meet her one day."_

" _I'd like to be a teacher."_

" _You can do better than that, I can see you as Minister."_

" _like Prime Minister?"_

" _Y… Yes. Any Minister you're a smart girl."_

" _Nana that snow globe, it talked."_

" _Crazy isn't it? The technology these days, it's broken I'm planning to destroy it."_

" _Can I have it?"_

" _N0!" Jumping, Hermione swallows at the intensity of her nana's voice._

 _The wrinkled face relaxing as she pulls her hand away from the pan, she pats Hermione's arm. Rinsing her finger under the tap. Hermione relaxes as she realises her nana burnt her finger and wasn't telling her off._

" _Sorry dear, Silly me burnt myself. No, it's dangerous, it leaks you see not only would your mother have a fit if you got it anywhere but it's toxic. Smelly stuff."_

" _Eww."_

" _Exactly. Now help your nana cut the peppers."_

" _Nana,"_

" _Yes dear."_

" _Why do you have soot on you?"_

" _Oh, my dear, I truly wish I could tell you but you think I was mad. Truly mad. Maybe one day."_

" _Okay, will that be the day you tell me about grandad?"_

" _Yes," Her nana sighs brushing the hair out of Hermione's face. "Yes, one day I will spill all. Problem with this family we have such expectations, my parents were demanding people. It's why I left I longed for some sort of freedom. To make my own mind up. You see, we have such potential all of us, potential to become anything we want to. We could do anything. Sometimes though when we're taught things of grandeur, we forget the important things."_

" _Like what?"_

" _What it means to have fun, to live, to love and never regret a moment. Be great my dear Hermione, be the greatest you, you can be, but don't lose who you are in the process. My dearest, you'll understand one day."_

Feeding the fire, Hermione watches the wood crack, the soft snoring of Bellatrix nearby. She relieves memories why did her nana have a prophecy. Her prophecy and where did it go? What was she so scared about Hermione learning that she destroyed it? Will she ever learn the truth about her family? Most importantly, who are her grandfather and her great grandparents? If nana ran away, was she a pureblood? Did she get involved with a muggle like Mrs Tonks? She longs to know what her family tree from her father's side really was. Maybe that should be her wish, the wish for the truth about her family.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/n:** Apologies for the delay, house hunting, is so very, very, very stressful. STRESS. Anyway We've found the house we want and now we are in limbo waiting for referencing to finish. I hope you all are well and thank you for all the lovely reviews. Please bear in mind the warnings!

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 **CHAPTER WARNING: Historic Adult Rape and child abuse. Violence.**

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

 _Conversations in the Night_

"Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime."  
― Mineko Iwasaki

The tick ticking of the clock set his nerves on edge, if he were a superstitious man, he would think it to be an omen. A countdown, a promise of their future to come. He, however, is not, superstition was not in his nature. Never the less, even he could not ignore the ever growing presence, the tension that filled the walls of the castle. Filled both walls of the respective kings abode a queen was rogue and no one knew how to deal with it.

He had watched passively the torture of the Lestrange brothers, watched one cry for mercy but the other remains quiet. Silence, anger it spoke volumes Rod wanted revenge, while his brother cried for forgiveness. He idly wondered if he cared? Did he? Care for Bellatrix's wellbeing, she had friends in the Death Eaters, she cared for her own. He wondered just what Rod would do to her when he finally got hold of her because he would get hold of her. If there was anything about Rodolphus Lestrange was his perseverance he would set his hands on his wife again.

Another question bothered him, was the Dark Lord angry because they failed to retrieve Bellatrix a task many thought pointless. Or did his anger span from fear maybe care? Rod had bragged he cut his wife open, promised if she survived from running, she would soon die. Granger was no healer unless they found help and given Bellatrix's reputation, he doubted any would willingly help. Was the witch dead? Had Bellatrix succumbed to her wounds?

It begged another question if she had died, where was Granger? She would be free from the psychotic kidnapper, could easily figure a way to request help or return home. So, where was she? They had all waited with bated breath, the order and the Death Eaters, waiting for the sighting of Granger. Waiting for the young Gryffindor to reach out, to return home. Nothing. Days turned to weeks and nothing. No word from Granger, no word from anyone that Bellatrix had fallen. Did she survive? Granger was resourceful, never the less she would never willingly save the witch, would she?

"Severus, you look troubled dear boy?" Albus spoke softly, reclined in a chair watching Severus thoughtfully. "I hope all is well?"

"As well as can be," Severus replied massaging his hand.

"Would you care to share your worries?"

"Granger."

"Ah," Albus nods reaching for his cup of tea.

"Are we sure she hasn't reached out?"

"Miss Granger has not, there has been no word."

"What does that mean?" Severus asked. "Is Bellatrix alive or are they both dead?"

"We will have to wait, until such time we hear something. I assure you dear boy I am doing everything I can to locate Miss Granger."

He doesn't worry for Granger, he should care, but the bookworm is not his concern. No, his concern rests with Bellatrix, he thought her disappearance would make his work easier. Would make everything easier but it has caused nothing but a headache.

"Draco has been tasked with something."

"To kill me?"

"You knew?"

"Tom cannot move against me himself, it would be foolish to try to. No, it is much more like him to try something under foot."

"Narcissa has asked me to assist."

"You said yes?"

"Of course, as we discussed."

"Good," Albus nods. "Never the less, it would appear the plan will have to change."

"What?" Severus demands as he clutches the chair. "The Dark Lord will kill him if he fails. Draco will die for his failure or worse."

"Draco is not my first concern," Albus answers once more igniting Severus' nerves. "Not with Bellatrix unaccounted for, no the plan has changed."

"Albus…"

"Fear not, Draco will remain safe, Tom would not willingly risk upsetting Bellatrix, not yet anyhow. I wouldn't be surprised if he changed his mind. Bellatrix has caused all plans to change."

"Who would have thought Dark Lord's crazy lieutenant could have such an effect."

"Bellatrix is not crazy, she concerns me more than Tom. The plans can only resume once we have both witches back, with out Granger, Harry will be at a loss."

Rising from his seat, Albus takes the few steps to stare down at the grounds of Hogwarts. Students have returned to the knowledge that Miss Granger has fallen into the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Unknowingly, Bellatrix has unravelled years of planning. I have worked so hard to get to this point, to get Tom where we needed him and in one night it has all come undone. My dear boy, this war will not be over quickly, not now. I cannot die, not with the war coming. If only we knew what Bellatrix had planned, what she is doing can we move forward from this limbo."

"What is so important about Bellatrix?"

"She is Tom's most trusted, his weakness as well as his strength. Never the less, it is not Bellatrix that affects us, unknowingly she has taken one of our strongest pieces. Miss Granger is a valuable asset to the Order, to Harry."

"Replace her, use the Weasley girl, Ginny."

"She is not the right fit, she will distract Harry not help." Turning, Albus regards the sorting hat sitting silently in the corner. "No, Miss Granger was intended for more, or perhaps less."

"Did you fix the sorting?" Severus asks.

"Some people are best left alone. Hidden in the shadow of others greatness, as was Bellatrix to Tom Miss Granger is Harry's shadow."

"Your worried she will learn from Bellatrix."

"Neither witch should learn from the other."

"Albus, what are you trying to hide?"

"Another, I am trying to prevent another."

Confused, Severus stares at the old wizard watching the grounds, turning to look at the sorting hat. He always did wonder why Granger never went in to Ravenclaw, did Albus fix the sorting. Has he played a part in Granger's future forced her to become Potter's friend? Engineered her future without her realising.

"What of Miss Granger's parents?" Albus asks.

"Safe, the Auror's are keeping them safe. It has yet to cross the Dark Lords mind."

"Good, they must remain safe. Are there any others?"

"No, she only has parents, her nan died a few years ago."

"Very well, I shall not keep you anymore."

Understanding the dismissal, Severus turns, leaving Albus to his scheming. Frowning as he passes a smashed ring, wondering why Albus has destroyed a valuable air loom. He focuses on one thing and one thing only. He needs to find Bellatrix, end this lunacy before it continues any further. He knows just the person he needs to see the only person she would trust.

 _~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~_

It's everywhere, that's the only thought running through her mind as she washes in the stream. Bathing in the running water, uncaring she is only in her underwear she couldn't care less. She is parched, her skin greedily accepting the water she basks in the chill. Washing her hair for the unknown amount of time. Normally she would celebrate having a tan, would love coming back from holiday with a tan. Not today however every part of her body aches, it burns under the water. Her lips cracked and peeling, she once more dunks her head.

No number of spells have offered relief she is aware she is greedily stealing the source of the water; aware Bellatrix is just downstream. Could catch sight of a near naked Hermione, but she doesn't care. It's everywhere. The sand clings to her the sun has left a mark. Her bones ache, her muscles stretched.

She ends up sitting under the pouring water, never has she thought she would miss water in all her life. It's the sound of sloshing that makes her look up to the approaching witch who slumps down behind Hermione. Hiding in the shadow of the cove, still beneath the water but not in the light of the sun. Their backs touching, she feels Bellatrix relax against her.

How did they get here? To the point of enjoying each other's company, to needing the reassurance of having the other close. She gives up thinking, resting her head against Bellatrix's. Tiredness rolls of her, five days maybe more they were stuck in the desert. Wandering aimlessly, heading for the mountains, wasn't till the fourth day did they come across one of their markers they had left. They had gone in a circle; their water ran out and the mountains were no closer.

They argued, bickered until they realised the ground was rotating beneath them. Every time they rested at night, they would wake up back at the start walking towards the mountains. It drove them crazy, Bellatrix came up with a very simple idea. Essentially turning Hermione into a giant balloon, without the witch's consent, she tied a rope to her leg. And kicked her. Bouncing along the sand dunes, flying she could do nothing as Bellatrix sent spell after spell at her making her float faster. Until she struck against the mountain rocks, inflated, humiliated and stuck she waited for Bellatrix to catch up. Through the night Bellatrix followed the rope leading to Hermione who by that point had deflated and returned to her usual self.

If she wasn't relieved to be free from the desert, she might have hit Bellatrix. Instead, they heard a whistle of a train and followed it. Taking a risk, they jumped on to the moving carriages, as the train carried them through the next portal to their current surroundings.

Like rabid dogs they both fell to the stream, drinking until they threw up and collapsing in a heap. Never again does she want to visit a desert, doesn't want to think about it anymore.

"Cannot believe I'm going to say this," Hermione mutters throat aching. "I miss trees."

"I agree." Bellatrix sighs tiredly.

Even now she fears this is one big mirage and she is going to wake up in the sand. Too dehydrated to cry tears and slowly dying a very painful death. She intentionally knocks her leg against the rocks causing a small gash and the reassurance of pain. They are here, this is all real.

"Don't pollute the water," Bellatrix mutters noticing the trickle of red.

"Just making sure this is real not in my head."

"Often think of me naked, do you?"

She chuckles glancing at the witch behind before turning scarlet. She hadn't noticed Bellatrix was stark naked, jolting away as though burnt she tumbles head first into the stream. Breaking the surface, she considers drowning herself to escape the cackle from Bellatrix.

"Why are you naked?" Hermione groans pulling herself to the bank.

"The sand is everywhere."

"So?"

"Everywhere. Every crevice – everywhere."

Wincing, Hermione rubs her eyes that is far too much information and her mind helpfully supplies pictures. Groaning, she finds herself some clothes to wear before setting in for the night, there's a small town nearby, they have somehow managed to find themselves in a local campsite. Hidden at the end, she had turned a blind eye to Bellatrix obliviating the poor man in charge.

They had set up their sleeping bags and a fire a welcome relief from the boiling heat and the freezing cold temperatures they had just come from. It only takes a few minutes but she's asleep not even faintly aware of Bellatrix returning to their camp.

It's early morning when she stirs, the fire has died, the sky a light blue the sun only just rising. She guesses about four am, the birds are beginning to sing. Rubbing her eyes, she never even managed to get into her sleeping bag merely collapsing on top of it. Her arms ache as she shifts slivering into her bag.

The snapping of a branch startles her, she pulls her wand relaxing as she notices Bellatrix trudging back to the camp. Surprised to see Hermione awake, Bellatrix gracefully slips into her bag rolling on to her back.

"Where'd you go?" Hermione whispers.

"Alright mother, I went for a piss." Bellatrix remarks making Hermione snort. "What did you think I was doing tormenting some local muggles?"

"Am I meant to answer honestly?" Hermione quips.

"Suppose it sounds better than going toilet." Bellatrix concedes folding her arms behind her head.

"Can I ask a question?" Hermione asks reaching for her flask.

"You just did, but I'm feeling good natured. What's the question?"

"Who taught you to duel. I mean obviously you went Hogwarts, but who really taught you, was it you know who?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Bellatrix closes her eyes only the sound of the birds and distant traffic. For a while, Hermione waits, but the witch doesn't answer deflated Hermione curls up under the covers. She's not surprised getting information out is similar to getting blood from a stone. Near impossible. They had settled into some sort of routine, both witches asking personal questions during the dead of the night. When neither could look at the other and their voices are carried away by the dark. In the morning they could pretend it wasn't real that the conversations never happened.

Perhaps it's too early they can see one another it's technically morning, this will make everything too raw. Closing her eyes, she dreams of home, to waking up on Sunday morning and going shopping with her parents.

"My uncle." Bellatrix rasps half between sleep and consciousness. "Orion Black, Sirius father. My father was always busy with work, he never had the time. Orion always believed himself to be a great duellist, approved of the Dark Lord but believed himself above him. In reality, he was only ever good at charms. Three times a week he would come to visit us when my father was away with work."

Listening, Hermione swallows when she notices Bellatrix's wand spitting red can see the witch coiled with hate. With anger, she almost wants to retract her question, it's not worth the distress.

 _He would come in the mornings, through the fireplace in swift movement robes billowing behind him. Bringing with him dread, it dripped from his frame a promise of pain to come. They were to practice until their hands were red and raw. Until the tears streaming down the face meant nothing, in the end, she forgot to cry._

 _She learnt to cry meant more pain and it showed weakness. She learnt this at the young age of seven, now at the age of fourteen, she rarely showed emotion. Over the years, he got worse, revelled in the power he had, their father failed to notice, how could he? They all hid it so well, their mother who could not fight him. She had seen it first hand playing hide and seek, she hid in her parents closet. He came early that day their father abroad._

 _Their mother alone, she snickered as she heard the door open, heard the running feet. Cissy would never find her here, wouldn't dare find her in her parents' room. It's through horrified eyes she watched her mother wail, kick and punch him. One slap and curse were all it took for him to subdue her to push her against the bed. To hike up her dress and have his way with her own mother._

 _Her mother cried, soundless tears she wanted to scold her, didn't she know tears meant nothing. No one came if you cried. It's her mother's shock to find her eldest daughter watching from the closet shame, disgust it all morphed into one. They had no one to turn to, no one to look after them, their father was away, her uncle was here._

 _He left her slumped against the bed, crying, she slipped from her hiding place flinching as her mother's weak hand grasped her own._

" _Bella," her mother whispered brokenly. "My Bella, cast this from your mind."_

 _How could she, it was already seared in place._

" _Crying won't help." Bellatrix reprimanded her mother. "I'll deal with this."_

" _No Bella, no."_

 _She left her mother crumpled on the floor, too weak to fight back. She would never become her mother, would never let anyone hurt her family. She would rather die._

 _They practised in the afternoon, in the play room as he called it. Cissy is new to the training she had heard from her sisters though what to expect. To be polite to answer nicely, to always do as he said. Other wise she would be cursed, she would get the poker to the hand, a slap to the face. A kick to the gut. She wouldn't be able to hold her wand for days if she failed._

 _He was teaching Andy when the poker smacked against her hand making her yelp and cry. Tears once more they ran down her sister's face, as she held her throbbing hand to her chest._

" _Aww get over it you spoilt little brat." He sniped smacking her at the back of the head. "This is why witches shouldn't fight. You cannot deal with the emotion. Weak, the lot of you. Narcissa front and centre."_

 _Shakily, Cissy stepped forward, her wand shaking in her grip, her face gave nothing away. Bella's little ice queen. She smiled to herself, Cissy would go far, she already knew the value of tears. Her defence was poor, her attacks poorer. Her foot work wrong, but he didn't remedy her mistakes he slapped her. Drawing blood from her lip, but nothing else. Her sister did not cry, not for the likes of him, never for the likes of anyone below her._

" _Listen here princess, or you'll end up like your mother."_

 _Her stomach rolled as the hand gently ran down Cissy's face there was no mistaking her similarity to their mother. Almost a younger version if it weren't for the ice Cissy had in her veins. The idea of him ever laying a finger on her sister spurned the demon in her. Her hand shook uncontrollably. The wand, her new wand it reacted to her touch much better than her old one. The one she broke fighting with Andy, this wand it almost wanted to fight._

 _The straight of the wand nothing like her old one where the end had bent. Rubbish, she paid Olivander a visit, he promised her something to withhold her magic. Walnut, her father wasn't sure, but Olivander promised it would be the only one that would work._

" _Now for some unforgivable work, Princess let's start with you. Andy why don't you practice."_

 _She watched as Andy cast a weak unforgivable, not wanting to hurt her little sister. Another curse made Andy crumple in a heap crying as she crawled away leaving only Cissy and herself._

" _Bellatrix, you little whore," He snapped grabbing her elbow. "Prove your worthy of the Black name."_

 _Cissy finally showed fear as Bella lifted her wand, a small shake of the head. Bella smiled. She turned on Orion her wand pointed at her uncle. Her uncle left scars on her abdomen, that left her sisters and her mother crying. Who terrorised them, that left her crying alone at night before she realised no one was coming? No one was going to save her._

" _Not me, you stupid bitch," He sneers. "Her."_

" _Why?" Bella asks calmly cocking her head to the side. "You're the weakest here, what use are you?"_

" _You filthy little…"_

 _She deflected his curse, anger it vibrated in every muscle of her body she reacts. Crucio leaving her lips, the shock as he crumpled screaming, begging. She never stopped. Her anger grew at the tears, she sneered, she felt the house shake. The shouting of her sisters, the shouting. She feels something snap, but it's not enough. Never enough, not for the pain he has caused. She wants him to feel every little thing he has done._

 _It's the hand that pulls her away, snapping her from the trance, pulled into the strong arms of her father. His face is furious as he looks at his shaking daughters and his brother crying on the ground. He had urinated himself._

" _What have you done?" Her father snaps her, thinking her responsible for all the pain. "They are your sisters…"_

" _He raped mother." She answered emotionless, eyes only for the crawling man. "He hit my sisters. Step aside father there is no need for filth such as him."_

 _Turning, her father regards the poor excuse for a man on the floor. Releasing Bella, he pulls his own wand from his pocket._

" _Girls leave," He orders._

 _Her sisters are quick to leave rushing from the room into their mothers waiting arms, Bella remains. Eyes only for the pathetic man._

" _I'll send you to Azkaban," Orion spits at Bellatrix. "You little bitch, I will have them strip you from your wand you psychotic bitch."_

" _No, you won't." Her father promises. "I will ruin everything you have a brother. Bella leave us."_

 _She remains until his cool dark eyes turn to regard her, she always admired her father. But now she wonders is he strong enough to teach his brother a lesson or does she have to finish it._

" _Bella," He replies fondly pressing a kiss to her forehead. "you have done enough, let me finish this. Go see your sisters."_

 _Nodding, she withdraws pausing by the door to regard her uncle, coldly she smiles._

" _Hide if I were you uncle," She says sweetly. "Because next time I see you, I won't stop our play time. I will never stop."_

 _She stalks from the room closing the door behind her, wondering what her father will do. A hand brushes through her hair, her mother's worried eyes regarding her sadly._

" _It is done." She answers simply, she fancies a bath before finishing her homework._

" _Your wand," Her mother answers stepping back. "It's bent."_

 _Twisted, Bella thinks regarding her wand that was once so straight now bent in the middle. It held._

" _I'm going to take a bath," She announces pocketing her wand. "I'm meeting titch later I don't want to smell."_

"My uncle taught us he wasn't very good though. In the end, my father and I would end up training my sisters. Then my Lord taught me more."

"Was your uncle a good teacher?" Hermione wondered.

"Yes," Bellatrix answers rolling on her side to regard Hermione. "But he ran out his usefulness."

Almost recoiling at the pitch-black eyes, Hermione wonders what she missed. Bellatrix definitely wasn't telling her something, however, Hermione doesn't want to know what it could be.

"He preferred the stick over the carrot, it grew tiresome. In the end, I had to teach him a lesson ever since then he hid away never did come back to _play."_

Shivering, Hermione doesn't think she would like to _play_ either. Not with the way Bellatrix twiddles with her wand. He abused them, her mind helpfully adds. Until she taught him a lesson, Sirius always did comment on the security of Grimmuald place. She wonders if Sirius knew why his father was hiding, or just assumed him to be paranoid.

Wisely she chose not to ask any more questions, choosing instead to feign sleep. The soft snoring of Bellatrix allowed her the means to relax and study the witch. What did Orion do to Bellatrix? Do to the Black sisters, did he abuse Sirius or was it just the girls. Shivering she choses not to dwell on it, choosing instead to get some more sleep before morning.

It's mild by the time they follow the hiking path Hermione enjoying their stroll the conversation was forgotten. Bellatrix in some high spirits, perhaps grateful to be away from the desert. Perhaps she did sneak off somewhere last night, she decides not to dwell. Choosing instead to ideally wander behind the witch, plucking a flower on passing. She admires the flower ignoring the snort from Bellatrix as she places it in her hair.

Grateful to not have anyone trying to kill them or to be stuck in a desert. She doesn't react quick enough she walks straight into Bellatrix's bony shoulder. Rubbing her nose, she almost drops her wand on retrieving it. Pointing it at the man casually leaning against a boulder as he munches happily on an apple.

"Bellatrix, Mudblood." He greets them with a wild smile.

Heart sinking, Hermione glances behind spotting another stepping on to the path behind them. Bellatrix regards the other man before turning back to the one blocking their way.

"Dolohov, you brought a friend?"

"For you Bella, how could I not?"

Staring, Hermione wonders if Dolohov survived the fall does that mean Nour survived or was the witch dead. Hand tightening on her wand she notices the man behind removing his hood. Her heart drops and she cannot help the gasp that leaves her lips.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/n:** So guys, we did it we managed to find a house and we are moving in two weeks. I meant I am so tired, we have packed and packed all weekend this isn't as fun as I thought it would be. Anyway just wanted to give you all a head up if there's a delay it's just because I am super busy and will update as soon as I can.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 **CHAPTER WARNING** : Nothing major.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

 _Phantoms_

" _The only true test of loyalty is fidelity in the face of ruin and despair."_

– _Eric Felten_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I feel so foolish, what was I thinking of trusting her? I mean I saved her, saved her and she goes and does this. What was she thinking? I really hate her, and at the same time I just…_

 _I miss you guys, where we are it's crazy. The things I'm seeing, I'm doing they're both terrifying and both so exciting. I want to come home, but would you think me mad if I a also wanted to stay? Her magic, her skill, I miss Sirius but I'm not surprised he lost against her. I don't know, I'm building up to asking why she killed him… I_ _need to know._

 _Don't forget to study and do your homework, I know I'm not there to help, but Ginny is good at Potions. Also, try not to do anything too foolish while I'm away. Please stay safe they are not weak the Death Eaters. Not the ones we met at the Ministry, don't underestimate them, please. Please stay safe he's up to something._

 _With all my love._

 _Hermione._

Anger it pulses, so violently she resists the urge to be sick, tries not to crush the biscuit in hand. Still, her body vibrates with barely restrained anger directed at her companion. She was so foolish; how could Bellatrix do this? Let her continue to think that… She hates her.

She wants to rage, to smash the fucking teapot against the wall to scream bloody murder. Not sit and have a tea party, pretending everything is fine. Her leg judders on its own her outbursts paused for the moment shock taking priority. It's building though as Bellatrix plays fucking tea host the whole situation surreal, she wants to flip the table. Curse all the Death Eaters and run, just run.

Antonin Dolohov, the one who tried to kill her to tried to attack her and let Greyback chase her down is Bellatrix's freaking secret keeper. Still dumbstruck from the moment they embraced like long lost siblings hugging fondly as though they were not convicted criminals. Watched astonished as they clutched hands, pressing foreheads together. Lovers? Bellatrix said there was a Death Eater was it him? Why is she angrier about this? Is she jealous?

"Stop that." The monotone voice, she did not miss it.

Her potions professor is here sipping from a little tea cup casting a withering glance at Hermione. A bloody Death Eater she knew he was but to see him in their ranks. Why was he even here, why isn't he trying to rescue her? Why is no one even paying her the slightest bit of attention? Instead, they sit listening to Dolohov and Bellatrix whisper in their little coded language, Snape content to wait for them to finish.

Settled around a bloody muggle picnic table eating biscuits and drinking tea. Muggles walking by casting strange glances at the two men dressed in black robes.

"What is happening?" Does Hermione finally snap glancing at the whispering friends? Lovers? She doesn't know nor care. "What the fuck is happening?"

"Language." Snape scolds making her flush.

"You already know." Bellatrix dismisses.

"Nour's alive?" Hermione continues staring at Dolohov.

"Yes," Dolohov replies patronisingly. She knows, knows she has asked this question four times already, but it still hasn't connected. "As I've said it was all planned."

"You tried to kill me," Hermione repeats.

"I thought you escaped Bella, better safe than sorry. Nour tackled me as a way to make it look like you escaped. She explained what was happening."

"And Greyback?"

"Shush muddy let the adults talk." Bellatrix interrupts her.

"No, you let me think Nour was dead, dead. You didn't think to inform me otherwise?"

"It didn't seem important." Bellatrix shrugs.

"You're such a cunt." Hermione hisses pushing from the table.

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix leaves Hermione to pace angrily in the background turning back to the stunned men.

"She's has awful language," Bellatrix replies with a cackle.

"I hate you," Hermione mutters snatching up the newspaper Snape brought she retreats to the base of a tree.

"The Dark lord fears you might have succumbed to your injuries," Dolohov says after a minute. "I'm glad to see his fears are not factual."

"Please as though my pathetic husband could kill me. I thought you would have known better." She scolds.

"I had my concerns, I've only seen him like this once before. Rod is not handling this very well, not even the Dark Lord is handling this."

"You have caused a headache." Snape pipes in. "To both sides. For what may I ask?"

"None of your business Snivelles." Bellatrix sneers.

"This is different from your psychotic breaks; your actions have unforeseen consequences. But you never did care for them, did you?" Snape snarls.

"This is all in aid of my Lord." Bellatrix answers. "Which side are you more concerned about Snivelles, surely you want me out the way. I was getting a bit close to your loyalties."

"Listen here harpy, Granger is needed back, she will come with me…"

"No." Bellatrix voice is cold, stern as the temperature drops around them. "She stays."

"She will not."

"I stay." Hermione pipes up flicking through the newspaper.

"Miss Granger…" Snape sighs.

"No choice, Professor. We cannot leave." Returning to the front page she fishes in her bag for her quill hoping to fill in the crosswords. Her picture stares back at her, she pushes the remorse aside she has no choice.

"What have you done?" Snape demands from Bellatrix.

"We cannot leave. Not until we complete what we came here to do. Then you can have the mudblood back."

"When she's lost her sanity?"

Bang, the dagger slams into the table cutting through Snape's robes inches from his wrist. From cutting his veins, black eyes staring Snape down.

"You bloody harpy." Snape sneers. "You never have thought about anyone but yourself. Did you have any consideration for those fighting this war, it could have all be done with in a few years. Now, who knows."

"Boohoo." Bellatrix drawls withdrawing her dagger. "Why did you bring him?"

"He asked to see you." Dolohov shrugs, eyeing the dagger. "Besides thought, it would look less suspicious if he were with me when I tell the Dark Lord we know your whereabouts."

"Your telling him?" Hermione asks surprised.

"To keep in favour of him, of course. You will be gone though by the time he arrives."

"Is that wise?" Hermione asks approaching the table.

"It'll be fine. With Rod going crazy, I need Antonin close to him, warnings for any future attacks. My sister."

"Is fine, he has only asked questions she remains… stoic. She knows nothing and if anything appears angrier at you. Your nephew, however, has been given a task." Dolohov replies trailing of.

"What task?" Bellatrix asks eyes darting between the two men.

"It's will be difficult, I am…"

"To Kill Dumbledore." Snape interrupts Dolohov.

Inhaling, Hermione stares at the two men as Bellatrix fails to give anything away. They plan to kill Dumbledore, Snape plans to let this happen. Why isn't he stopping Draco? Why is no one reacting?

"He must succeed, Antonin, you must help him in any way you can. I suppose Cissy has already sorted your help Snivelles?"

"Yes, I have promised to aid Draco in his mission."

"What?" Hermione demands as she stares at her potions Professor. "Are you mad? This is Dumbledore, it's Draco for Merlin's shake. A kid."

"It is the dark Lords request," Dolohov replies.

"Fuck him." Hermione snaps. "Let him do it himself? Why is he sending a child to kill Dumbledore, who either knows this is going to happen and will allow it. Or will squish him with a flick of his wrist either option is not ideal."

A hand presses against her arm, panting, Hermione stares at Bellatrix who merely shakes her head. Their conversation from ages ago, they are nothing but pawns in a game of chess replaying in her mind.

"He's a child, I mean he's a prick, but his still a kid," Hermione whispers hoping to get sense into Bellatrix.

"The Dark Lord will do worse to him should he fail," Bellatrix replies releasing Hermione's arm. "Should that happen, Antonin, you know what to do."

"Of course. No one will find your sister or your nephew."

"You're okay with this?" Hermione asks Snape.

"My hands are tied," Snape answers solemnly. "The question still remains, Miss Granger cannot stay, Bellatrix see reason."

"no choice here, she stays," Bellatrix answers rising to her feet. "Our time has run out."

"How is Harry?" Hermione asks Snape.

"Worried," Snape replies looking at Hermione for the first time.

Nodding, Hermione turns her attention back to the paper on the table, as Snape wanders to the side allowing Bellatrix and Antonin time to speak. They hug once more, foreheads pressing to one another.

"Stay safe," Antonin orders.

"You too, do nothing to enrage him."

"Wait," Hermione stops Antonin from joining Snape.

"What?"

"Can he be trusted?" Hermione asks Bellatrix, who merely nods ignoring the scoff from Antonin. "Can you do something for me, please."

"Filth…" Antonin sneers pausing at Bellatrix request. "What?"

"My parents are they safe?"

"The Dark Lord has yet to explore that avenue, never the less I am aware they are monitored by the Aurors."

"Can you, can you do something for me."

"I am not an owl." Antonin sneers.

"What is it?" Bellatrix asks studying Hermione.

"I was going to do it myself, I know there was an only a small amount of time before the war truly affected us. Can you wipe their memories, so they don't recall who I am, send them to Australia?"

"Why?"

"Safety," Hermione answers ignoring the guilt. "Please, I can pay you or whatever."

"No need," Bellatrix says. "If you do this there is no coming back."

"I was going to do it anyway," Hermione replies forcing the lump in her throat down.

"Why not ask Snape?" Antonin demands.

"I don't trust him."

"Very well, but they are well guarded it will be difficult."

"Thursdays, every Thursday they go to the local café at ten am. It's a tradition they'll be there might think I'll turn up they'll be easy targets. They always have a booth at the back no one would notice you. It's called the Snug bug, it sells books too."

"very well, Bella?" Antonin asks.

"Do it," Bellatrix nods clasping his hand. "On me."

"Be careful, I don't know how long until he will arrive. Snape will tell him shortly. Snape will want Miss Granger returned. You know he does not trust your word."

"Act fast then."

With a nod, he leaves heading to Snape as both men clutch the portal, a sense of foreboding settling over Hermione. She is doing the right thing to keep her parents safe. To keep them out of harm's way, this way at least she doesn't have to do the spell.

"Brave," Bellatrix comments patting Hermione's shoulder.

"Will he go through with it."

"Yes, Antonin is one of the few I trust with my life."

"Why?"

"It's a very long story, come we must leave. Snape will spill to the Dark Lord of our whereabouts."

Offering her arm, Hermione hesitates before taking it, feeling the sensation apparition the tug in the gut. A different feel this time though, guilt has settled in her stomach even as her feet touch more solid ground, she knows her future is set. Her parents will forever forget her, to never know they had a daughter.

For once she is grateful that Bellatrix is not engaging in small talk, is not teasing. Leaving Hermione to her thoughts as they wander a path towards a town. Forcing herself to focus, she pushes the thought of her parents aside she planned this a long time ago. She knew the risks of being Harry's friend, this way her parents will remain safe.

It takes her a minute to realise they are still in the same place only moving closer to the wizarding town. Feels a spell run along her skin, a charm firmly in place. Why are they still here? Shouldn't they be leaving heading to the portal?

"What are we doing?" Hermione asks, glancing backwards. "you said we needed to leave?"

"We do."

"Then why are we here?"

"Only an idiot would stay."

"You'll bluff."

"Essentially… yes."

"Won't he know you would do this?" Hermione wonders, Voldemort will surely know how his lieutenant thinks?

"There are several options for me to consider. Never the less, he thinks us to be running, not pursuing a challenge. He will think us to be gone, perhaps leaving a trail to mislead him. He would not think I would waste my time in such a town. Not without causing some scene."

"This is a risk," Hermione warns not as confident as Bellatrix. "Why are we here?"

"There's someone I need to see."

Frowning, Hermione trails after the dark witch, glancing into windows as they pass. Perhaps if they have the time they can stop for some food, real food. Maybe even have time for a bath and a proper bed. Was this all a level? Were they being tested? Temptation? Her head buzzes with the trap they could be walking into.

Except Bellatrix doesn't seem bothered, not a hesitant step, nor a worrying thought making her frown. They draw no attention and blend amongst the crowd as though they shopped here every day. As though they weren't two of the most famous people in the world as though the newspaper on sale didn't have her face plastered on the front cover.

They pass a bookshop her fingers twitch desperate to divert off, noticing the book keeper in the window. She focuses on Bellatrix once more, who is heading to the gloomy building in the distance. Along the cobbled street, under the burnt-out candles from the night before. The dried wax that cracks under their feet and past the decorative windows that entice.

The hand resting on the door to the gloomy building, Bellatrix goes to enter, her other hand pressing against Hermione's chest. Making her stumble to a stop, wondering why they're stopping.

"Where are you going?" Bellatrix asks.

"With you," Hermione answers confused glancing to the writing above the door.

"Ha, no you're not. They don't let your, err kind in." Bellatrix replies giving Hermione a short shove. "Stay, or shop I'll be back soon."

"What? We can't split up."

"Filth, you cannot enter. Do you want to cause a scene?"

"No, but…"

"But nothing. You enter the whole street will know your blood," Pulling her wand from her sleeve, Bellatrix draws it across her palm slicing it open. "I'll be back shortly."

Pocketing her wand, Bellatrix fishes in her other pocket drawing a small purse, dropping it into Hermione's confused hand.

"Splash out or don't be back in an hour. Don't wander off." Bellatrix warns. "Need me, send me a patronus."

The door slams in Hermione's face leaving her standing out in the street, coin purse weighing her hand down. Blinking, she considers barging in after Bellatrix, but choses not to make a scene. Groaning, she pockets the money, maybe she could get something to eat would it appear weird just to have room to use a bath?

The clinking of a bottle makes her turn, the blur of movement as a figure darts down a side street. Craning her neck to see, Hermione tries to spot the person. The sense of being followed weighing heavily on her shoulders. Following her instinct, she shuffles through the crowds. From the kids shopping to the adults leaving work, she blends in easily. Heading back the way they came, she pauses at the narrow alley.

Throwing a look over her shoulder she considers waiting for Bellatrix? No, she was abandoned like a dog tied to a post outside a shop. Annoyed, she ignores the warning in her mind not to go down the alleyway. It could be anyone, it could be nothing, she could get lost.

Curiosity wins, slipping into the narrow passage, she clutches her wand under her coat. Edging carefully down the cobbled path, along with the chipped brick work and the smell of rubbish waiting to be entered from a restaurant. A rat scurries across the passage, darting into a grate leading to a sewer.

This is foolish, what or who is she even chasing? She berates herself for her foolishness. All the times she told the boys off for being so reckless and here she is chasing a phantom. Scoffing, she turns back to the street, why is she chasing shadows. She knows how dangerous they are, knows that this is not the place to wander. Still anger it crawls through her veins, prodding and poking. What point will she prove to Bellatrix by getting herself killed? The witch would just replace her with another and that is not something Hermione can allow. If any one is to remain trapped in this hell it will be her, she cannot let another fall into trouble.

Hands in pockets she sighs, she'll visit the bookshop before getting some food. It'll do no good to continue wandering the streets hoping to pass the time. Bellatrix has probably gone to a bar, searching for liquor and a way to ignore Hermione for an hour. Perhaps they both could do with a break from one another after being trapped in the desert, with nothing but one another. It drove both of them slightly mad, or madder at least.

Something cold presses against her lips, startling her it covers her mouth. Stopping the yell leaving her lips, her hand's fumble from the pockets only to be trapped by a large arm that crosses her chest. The arm prevents her from fighting, she feels her body being lifted. She tries to scream to bite the hand, but it's no use.

Heart hammering, she feels herself being carried backwards through a hidden door. The sunlight vanishing, she tries to adjust to the gloom of the room. Struggling in the arms of her assailant, she hopes this is Bellatrix playing with her. Yet the arm holding her is much larger, stronger and belongs to a man.

Her feet touch the ground, she stumbles free from the person. She pulls her wand pointing it at her assailant, squinting in the darkness. Trying to see, eyes slowly adjusting she's aware the man is calm. His arm slowly raising towards something she tracks him slowly walking backwards until her back hits a cupboard. Flinching at the contact, she tries not to panic, trapped in a corner with a stranger.

"Who are you?" She demands, surprised at how steady her voice is. "What do you want?"

The hand flicks a light switch illuminating the room, making her blink and glance around. Confusion replaces fear, she's in the bookshop more precisely the back of the book shop. A large bearded man, staring at her, both hands raised.

"Please, I mean you no trouble." He answers his voice gravelly and so quiet. "Miss Granger…"

"How do you know me?"

"I do not," He replies beard twitching with a smile. "I know your name from the papers. It is Bellatrix I know. I needed to speak with you, I did not know how to gain your attention I apologise for scaring you. However, if Bellatrix knew, knew I was here, well I do not think it would be pretty."

"Why?" Hermione asks confused, how did he know who they were after all no one paid them any attention. "How did you know?"

"It's my job, please, may I?" He points to the pile of newspapers.

Nodding, Hermione lowers her wand as he crosses the room shuffling through the papers on the desk. Searching in a mad frenzy for something, wand still in hand, Hermione glances to the door. Unsure how to proceed, she should leave she knows this. This man is highly unstable, she should walk out, head to Bellatrix. Her gut, however, says to remain, that he won't hurt her.

"I am sorry, I didn't wish to frighten you. I saw you both, I know everyone here I watch them come and go for their work. When I saw you both I thought she looked familiar? That I recognised her walk, I mean you never forget meeting Bellatrix Lestrange. I met her though a long time ago, probably not long after you were born. Then I saw her draw her wand, that crooked wand I knew instantly it was her."

"I'm not following," Hermione replies jumping as he places newspapers on a table. "If you want to meet Bellatrix…"

"No, no." He replies firmly, the creases around his eyes relaxing as he turns to Hermione. "I'm sorry I'm not making much sense am I. My name is Thorn Bags, I used to work for the Daily prophet. My last published story was in the autumn of 1981."

"The year he fell," Hermione replies, the year Voldemort fell against Harry.

"Yes," He nods sliding papers across the table. "I was the Head journalist; my name could cause businesses to panic and politicians to resign. I was fearless, my stories knew no bounds. I reported throughout the war, sometimes I was there in the middle of it. The whole of Britain knew of me, I was at my prime."

"So, what happened?"

"The trial of the century." He answers sadly.

Stepping closer, Hermione stares at the front pages, the creased papers decades old but still tell their story. Pictures of the Lestrange brothers in chains, the picture of Bellatrix being led in chains to the dock to face trial. The discovery of the Longbottom's, the hunt for the culprits and the pictures of Voldemort's best plastered across the papers.

"Trial by society," He mutters dropping the last paper on the table. "I covered it all, it's all any one was speaking off at the time. But no one was reporting. The day He fell, the day everything changed. Except everyone seemed to have forgotten it didn't end when Voldemort fell to Harry Potter. While the order was quick to put the boy in hiding the fighting still continued."

"Continued?" Hermione frowns at this everyone knows the fighting stopped when Voldemort fell.

"Yes, some rallied they stayed loyal. The fighting continued. A different one, a different tactic. Even rumour to be a fight between the Death Eater leaders and Dumbledore. If the rumours are true then the leader won."

"Who became the leader? Bellatrix."

"She took reign, she pulled the ranks. There were attacks on muggles, however, there were more political attacks, the order was struck while stretched. Rumours believed they were close to winning. Then this, the awful attacks on the Longbottom's, the public outcry, the Death Eaters scattered."

"They were winning the battles but lost the war."

"Essentially yes."

"Okay, so you reported Bellatrix trial is that why you don't want her to see you? Bad memories?"

"No, not at all. I reported on the trial, I went through every piece of evidence and I spoke to the arresting Aurors who took the Lestrange brothers in. Who interviewed Barty Crouch Jr and the ones who interviewed Bellatrix? The trial was a fix, it was all through the papers who had done the crime. The atrocities, no one asked looked any further. I tried to publish a story, I handed it to my editor, the next day I get a warning. Threats made to me; my flat is burgled and a week late after the trial I lose my job. Disgraced."

"The Death Eaters were trying to keep you quiet?" Hermione guesses not looking at the screaming face of Bellatrix.

"Do you know originally when arrested, Bellatrix pleaded innocent of the crime. Said she had an alibi," Thorn continues staring at the front pages lost in history. "I brought you here because I needed to know, I need to know that everything I bet my career on isn't a lost cause."

"I don't know how I can help. I'm sorry you lost your career, however, Bellatrix upset a lot of people with the crime. At the end of the day, a lot would say they were innocent of the crime."

"Do you know who she used as an alibi?" He questions turning to regard Hermione with his dull green eyes.

"No," Hermione shrugs.

"Her sister."

"Well, I'm not surprised they are close…"

"Andromeda Tonks."

Mouth open, Hermione loses her thought process. A knowing smile shows on Thorn's face, a small nod of the head that moves the mad mass of hair. Bellatrix Lestrange, the notorious Death Eater and loyal supporter used her disgraced sister as an alibi?

"I was fired because I claimed Bellatrix Lestrange was innocent of the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom and I have proof."

* * *

 **A/n:** Thank you all for the massive support for this fic, your reviews make me happy. I'd also wonder if anyone will catch on where this may be going. Also I will warn you now, enjoy the quietness of these chapters all I will say for the next few is... i'm sorry.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/n:** So this is early there's good reason for this which you will find at the end of this chapter. Another update will be this weekend, I dare not leave it any longer. Also I can confirm this is most definitely a Bellamione it will happen, but this is a slow burn! Slow. So bare with it.

Warning: this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

CHAPTER WARNING: **Major Character Death. Violence. Description some people may find disturbing. Viewers** **discretion** **is advised.**

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

History of Mistakes

 _We hide our demons so good, that the angels we show, bare the shame on their faces._

 _Anthony Liccione_

Proof? The word feels foreign to her, the history she knows the hate towards Bellatrix for her past crimes still rages. Neville is her friend, what Bellatrix did was unforgivable, even now. To claim she was innocent, she wants to scoff at Thorn. Everyone knows who committed the crime everyone it was all through the papers…

Staring into her butterbeer, Hermione feels guilt niggle at her, isn't she just like everyone else? Trial by society isn't that what Thorn said. Is it possible that the whole world was lied too? It is possible, she knows this she met Rita who could twist the truth to make her readers intrigued. No one cares for the truth, they care only for a story.

She waits with bated breath ready for her world to be turned upside down, for Thorns to prove Bellatrix innocence. The other half waits eagerly to prove him wrong to roll her eyes and leave the gloomy bookshop. She's not sure which half to be upset with the most, the hopeful half or the one willing to prove Bellatrix guilty.

Nursing her butterbeer she glances to the biscuits that have seen better days. Thorn not used to the company has barely any essentials in, but this doesn't worry her. Her focus is only on the pile of newspapers and scribbles he is currently searching through.

"You said you had proof?" Hermione says eventually glancing to the clock, she cannot waste too long here. Bellatrix will come looking for her, and she doesn't want to be here when Bellatrix realises what is happening.

"Yes and no." He comments offhand.

The thumping in her head starts once more, she's been lied to she should just leave. This is obviously a desperate man looking for a reason for losing everything. Maybe, there is no proof, maybe Bellatrix did it and he is hoping to start another story to gain his way back to the top. It would be a story and a half if it were true, never the less, without solid proof no one would believe him.

"Why are you so keen to prove her innocence?" Hermione asks.

"It's not about her not so much. It's always been my job to investigate big stories, I interviewed everyone that week. I wanted the truth, however, it appeared no one else did. You know at first, I believed what I was told. It was the culprits, it wasn't until I interviewed the neighbour of the Longbottom's, did I start to believe differently. It was something they said and to this day it has stuck with me. I cannot explain why call it intuition."

Placing the papers on the table he brushes the hair out of his eyes turning to Hermione. His eyes alight, it strikes her still. The chase of the story has brought life back to him his once dull eyes cracking with energy. Reclining she chooses to listen, she does, after all, rely on evidence and if there is any then she will listen.

"An unassuming lady worked for the ministry as a lackey, nothing incredible about her. Heard the commotion, came out to investigate. She was late home from work, something she regretted. She had hoped if she finished on time she could have called for help and the Longbottom's would have survived the attack. She remembers coming home, hearing the baby wailing next door she stepped out her back door. Into the pouring rain, mud sticking to her heels as she went to the edge of her property, she saw them. Four leaving the house three men, she knew who they were had met Barty Crouch Jr a couple of times at the Ministry. Saw the Lestrange brothers had dealt with a few of their cases and she saw her. Bellatrix. The men ran apparating away and Bellatrix looked the witness dead in the eye. There was no mistaking who she was."

"That just proves Bellatrix was there?" Hermione replies confused.

"That's what I thought. Except what the witness said, it struck me odd. She said and I quote. 'She stared at me, just stared. Before leaving. It's almost as though she wanted to be seen, wanted to be acknowledged.'"

Sucking in a breath, Hermione sinks into her chair. How could anyone want to be acknowledged for such a crime to allow a witness to tell Aurors? Did Bellatrix have no remorse?

"She knew Bellatrix, had met her through the courts. Bellatrix had gone to court a few years before giving evidence to save a fellow Death Eater from the kiss. You never forget meeting Bellatrix and yet the witness stated. It was as if Bellatrix was there but wasn't."

"What does that mean?" Hermione asks.

"I don't know the witness died in an accident a week later before I had a chance to talk to her."

"An accident?"

"A freak accident she died in Diagon Alley a cauldron exploded a few were injured but she was the closest. I never got to ask her what she meant. Confused I turned to the next source I asked the Aurors. Surprised to find Bellatrix had claimed she was at Andromeda Tonks house the night of the attack. She left in the morning. When questioned, Mrs Tonks denied this explaining she had not seen her sisters in years. They even asked the little girl who produced a small picture of her mother and her playing airplanes. They had made paper airplanes from the papers which had the date, it showed Mrs Tonks playing with her daughter."

"So, Bellatrix lied?"

"It would appear so when asked why Bellatrix would insinuate, she was with Mrs Tonks. Mrs Tonks replied that it was just another ploy by Bellatrix. That it was a cruel taunt from her sister. Bellatrix later retracted her statement."

"Pled guilty."

"No, she never pled guilty she only stated that their master would come for them," Thorn replies pulling a letter form the pile of paper. "After searching I found that Alice Longbottom was seeing someone, an old flame had died. She had some letters that insinuated there was once an affair when I asked her mother. I was very much thrown from the family home she is a very scary woman. You probably think I'm mad chasing this story, I mean it drove me here the arse end of the world. I lost everything my family thought me mad and disowned me. Perhaps I am, but something was wrong about that trial. I let it go until I received this letter and then Bellatrix had kidnapped you. The world thought it was history repeating itself, you would be the next victim. Except, here you are alive sanity still intact. Tell me what is your first thought on Bellatrix?"

"There's a lot of thoughts."

"Crazy?"

"No, sometimes but only in the heat of battle."

"Passionate?"

"Yes, she's funny, crazy smart but she's not…"

"A monster?" He smirks at Hermione.

"I was going to say a demon."

"We all have demons, Miss Granger, some just cannot control their own, others have a mutual understanding. But we all have our demons." Drawing the letter close he passes it to Hermione with some hesitancy. "I'm dying, I was estimated to live only for a few more months. It's terminal I had always hoped that I would get the answers before I died."

Accepting the letter, Hermione slowly unravels the scroll, feeling sorry for the man who can be no older than fifty. To be disowned, driven from his family and friends in to hiding. Was it possible for someone to be impersonating Bellatrix? Was it possible for the whole trial to be a lie? But for what gain? To make sure Bellatrix was locked away? That the last Death Eaters were rounded up?

 _Dear Thorn,_

 _I ridiculed you, I laughed in your face when you visited. No one believed me when I said I was innocent, so why should I believe you when you told me you thought her to be innocent._

 _Looking back now I realise a lot of people lost their lives at the end of the first war. More causalities than we acknowledge. I was young, foolish and hurting, for that I am sorry. I realise now you came to me because you needed to understand. What she capable of doing the crime? Yes, she was, Bellatrix is capable of anything. Would she do the crime? Once upon a time I would have said yes. Now I say no._

 _Bellatrix was not there the night of the attack on the Longbottom's for this I have proof. I need to know if you are still looking into this? Do you still believe her to be capable of the murder? Do you still believe her to be innocent? I do. Bellatrix was not responsible. Reply to this letter and I will send you proof, it will be too dangerous for me to break the news._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Padfoot._

She drops the letter, stomach churning, she recognised the hand writing but tried to ignore it. The signature could not be ignored. Sirius, sent the letter, Sirius had proof Bellatrix was innocent?

"He never replied, I assumed he changed his mind."

"He died," Hermione answers sadly. "Sirius died during the battle of the Ministry."

"Damn, he never got my letter never sent me the proof. How did he die? I bet they shut him up…"

"Bellatrix," Hermione replies. "Bellatrix killed him."

Rising to her feet, she sees she has wasted her time here. Bellatrix may be innocent during the attack of the Longbottom's but she killed Sirius so he wouldn't prove it. So Bellatrix wouldn't lose face with her Lord.

"It might not be what it seems."

"I was there," Hermione replies harshly. "He was my friend, I saw what happened."

"He had proof though, we must find it…"

"No. If he had proof, Bellatrix killed him to keep him quiet. I have to go, she'll be looking for me. I'm sorry, if Bellatrix is innocent or not it still doesn't excuse previous crimes."

"You spend so much time with her," he says sadly regarding Hermione with pity. "Yet, still you believe what was written. You should look with your eyes Miss Granger and not with your mind."

"Goodbye, Mr Thorn I wish you well."

She allows the door to shut on its own, heading from the bookshop. Her mind whirling, she spots a small café slipping inside she orders some food and takes a seat by the far window. Staring out at the passing people she wonders is it possible. Is it possible Bellatrix is innocent? _She killed Sirius, there was nothing innocent about that._

~~~~~ _ADITM ~~~~~_

Clicking her neck, her hand plucks the drink from its coaster, her eyes regarding her plucky little mudblood. Her brooding mudblood who is more interested in the passing people than to ask Bella where she's been. Maybe it's the tell tale smell of firewhiskey that gave her a way, or maybe the mudblood just didn't like being left alone.

Still, the tea does a good job of removing the taste of firewhiskey, not enjoying the taste so early in the morning. A necessary evil to accept the choice of drink from the patron of the house refusing would be a dishonour. It's enough though to gain some information and to restock supplies. An old contact, a trusted contact someone who could get all the supplies needed without raising the suspicion of the Aurors.

Turning attention back to the mudblood, Bella studies the half eaten sandwich. The thoughtful look and wonders what has caused such a reaction in the young witch? What did she miss during her meeting?

"So?" Bella finally breaks the silence stabbing her fork into her carrot cake. "Why the long face?"

A shrug in response, the action triggers a nerve, annoyance poking at Bella, how dare the witch ignore her? Shaking of the frustration, if the mudblood wants to play hard to get she can.

"What did you do?"

"Went to the bookshop."

Pursing her lips, Bella takes a deep breath leaning back in her chair, she catches the sympathising glance of a mother. A mother with their own moody teenager who currently has their hood up and reading. Managing a fake smile, Bella wonders how the person would feel if they knew she was a kidnapper and the mudblood was part of the famous trio. That she was a notorious murderer and torturer who was receiving sympathy from a mother.

"What?" Bella finally snaps dropping her fork with a clang, insulted to be considered the mother of the mudblood. Does she look that old? Oh wait, she has a disguise on, yes that is it. "What's with the long face?"

"I'm not in the mood," Granger replies not even acknowledging Bellatrix.

"Tough shit, I am. You look like someone's kicked your puppy. So, spill what's going on in your small little mind muddy?"

"you." Granger snaps.

"Ohh, why's that?"

"It doesn't matter, it'll only end in an argument."

"I'm feeling particularly happy to day so try me."

She doesn't feel happy at all if anything she feels antsy, why did Dolohov bring Snape? He knows the Professor cannot keep a secret and no one knows which way his loyalties lie. She has more important things to worry about that dealing with a moody teenager.

"Fine," Granger snaps turning to regard Bellatrix. "Don't say I didn't warn you. I was doing some reading…"

"Funny that's what happens in a book store." Bella quips.

"On the Longbottom's."

The smile falls from her face, all emotion draining from her body, she regards the mudblood coldly. This is all very foolish for the mudblood to approach this conversation especially so public. Doesn't she know the witnesses won't prevent Bella from doing anything it hasn't before and it won't now?

"Tread carefully," Bella warns voice like steel she notices the mudblood swallow. Good, she should be scared. "Tread very carefully."

"What happened?"

"Are you deaf or just fucking stupid," Bella hisses as her anger rises.

"Were you there that night?" Hermione questions ignoring the warning. "I read a report where you weren't there that you plead innocent of the crime."

"It's wrong."

"You said you were with your sister Mrs Tonks."

"Don't utter that name. Let me explain muddy, the history is history unless you want a re-enactment, I suggest you stop this."

"I don't think you were there…"

"Muddy." Bella grinds out.

"I think you were innocent, but now your lord is back you cannot claim innocence. Is that why you killed Sirius?"

The question throws Bella, what does Sirius have to do with the Longbottom's? Wasn't the death explained? They've had this conversation she killed Sirius because they are on opposite sides, granted her cousin was slow to fight her but they all knew the risks.

"Because he had proof? Proof that you weren't there that night of the Longbottom's attack."

"What proof?" Bellatrix demands confused. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about? The Longbottom's everyone knows what happened, Sirius died in a duel. That's it."

"He had proof you weren't involved."

"Then he would have blackmailed me or sent it to my Lord. You think during that fight I had enough time to focus on only one person?"

"Your lying." Granger snaps red faced.

"Filth, what the hell is wrong with you? I know you saved me and all but trying to make me into a good person is not going to happen."

"This isn't what I'm doing," Hermione replies exasperatedly. "I want the truth."

"The truth is, war is dangerous and we are all nothing but replaceable."

The table jolts as Granger pushes to her feet shoving the table away. The drinks slosh on to the wood. Furious, Granger stares at Bella chest heaving, she half expects the mudblood to continue. Except all eyes are now on them and the mudblood falls quiet. Sulking away, she pushes past the table and out through the door of the café.

Blinking, she barely waves her hand organising the table once more she watches the mudblood storm off up the road. What did she miss? Groaning, she rubs her eyes, was she this moody when she was a teenager. She startles as a waitress places another tea on the table a small smile.

"On the house, we've all been there love." She says sympathetically.

Dumbstruck, Bella watches the waitress retreat rolling her eyes she slouches in her chair. She'll let the mudblood calm down before they go any further. It won't do well to have the witch storming around.

"It's snowing!" A young child squeaks.

Turning, Bella watches the heavy snow fall, quickly lining the streets, she wonders if the mudblood will die of hyperthermia just to spite Bella.

She sits for a few hours catching sight of the mudblood pacing in the distance with a coat on. The snow slowing, Bella flicks through the latest newspaper wondering if the witch has calmed down yet.

A low pitched howl pierces the afternoon, her heart slows the soft murmuring of those in the café. That isn't a wolf. Rising to her feet, she hears the soft crying the rushing of feet as she spots it. Mosmorder. Heart hammering, she rushes from the café, she needs to find the mudblood. Find her before Greyback does. The Dark Lord is here.

She stumbles through the snow, eyes darting up and down the road, struggling to locate the mudblood in the mass of people panicking. A couple barge past her running for the safety of their homes.

Don't they know no where will be safe unless she finds the mudblood and runs? Calming herself, she focuses her attention on the distance the last place she saw Granger pacing. Pushing through the snow, she ignores the chill as the snow soaks through her shoes. Disregards the thumping in her head, the fear causing adrenaline to course through her veins.

"Bella." The voice causes ice to settle over her, her body going numb.

Turning, she finds her Lord standing behind her, seeming so out of place in the small little street of shops. The crunching of footsteps behind her, she knows her husband is pacing like a wild animal wanting to get his hands on her. Even through the mask, she recognises Dolohov, the slightest twitch of the head.

She was foolish to remain, should have never of trusted Snape to keep quiet. The slimy git would have told her Lord the moment they returned anything to get his hands-on Potters mudblood.

Her knees hit the snow, she bows her head before her Lord, swallowing her anger at Snape. She must not show it; other wise her Lord will notice, will think her to be angry with him. His feet glide across the snow not allowing it to slow his advance.

"My Lord." She whispers the words, her voice usually so strong feels flimsy.

Flimsy, she is not flimsy, nothing about her is soft yet she feels… vulnerable. Meek before her Lord who regards her with his with his snake like eyes. She is not weak, something burns beneath her skin, something else. The throbbing in her head the apprehension for Granger is palpable, Greyback will want revenge.

She conveys her concern in one simple look to Dolohov, a well practiced look. Knowingly he accepts the silent order, the brother she always wanted but never had. The one piece of her fucked up life she can rely on. She saved him from the Dementors all those years ago, and he saved her from her demons. Her brother, her secret keeper and her confidant.

He vanishes a quick murmur to their Lord, helping in searching for the mudblood. Helping Bella keep an eye on Granger. A cold hand, void of emotion it curls under her chin, squeezing as it tugs her face upwards to gaze upon her Lord. It strikes her the very first thought as she gazes at her Lord that he is not the wizard he used to be.

"My Bella," He murmurs, regarding her emotionlessly his voice empty. She still hears the softness he uses only for her, but it rings hollow in her chest.

"My Lord," Her voice is firm once more. "I can explain."

"I hope you can," He replies releasing her chin.

"This is all for you My Lord, everything I am doing is for your gain."

"Yet, I didn't order it."

She recoils slightly, heart pounding she counts his back up. Eyes scanning for escape, checking for anything she missed. Everything she does is for her Lord; her whole life is dedicated to assisting the Lord. Her family's money is the most influential in his army, without the Black's support the Dark Lord would not have as many supplies.

"My Lord, please let me explain." _Am I begging?_ The question bounds around her head unbidden, she disregards it.

The sound of shouting in the distance is a momentary distraction, the sound of fighting. The sky lighting up with spells, her heart drops they found Granger. She has seen the witch duel, she's good but she won't survive against Death Eaters on her own.

"Your concerned about the Mudblood?" The Dark Lord scoffs, she hears the snickering of the others. Of her husband can feel the distaste in the air. "Don't fear Bella I will keep your pet alive, in fact, Greyback has staked claim I believe. Wouldn't it be just something returning her to Potter as a werewolf? She could do the job for me."

The thought makes her sick, no one is touching her mudblood, not even her Lord. The girl belongs to Bella and Bella alone. She would cut Greyback's balls off before he damaged the girl's skin.

"Scared Bella?" He goads her, his wand hanging dangerously from his fingertips.

"Everything I do is for you."

"So you keep saying." His angry now, his lips curling with annoyance. "You disappoint me, Bella."

The words cut deep, she bows her head. She never wanted to disappoint him, not her Lord. The only wizard ever to respect her, to respect her skill and the only one she craved to impress. How could she tell the Dark Lord without them all knowing what she was doing?

The choice to come clean vanishes as an ungodly sound fills the air. The sky ripped apart with a green light, she rises to her feet so fast the Dark Lord steps back. Turning to look to the sound in the distance heart sinking. Fear, unlike anything she has ever felt, takes control. Her wand is in her hand, her husband is smirking and anger takes control.

"Looks like the mudblood is dead." Rod taunts, falling quiet at the tsk from her Lord.

The killing curse still lingers in the air, it has torn the tense atmosphere apart. Rod shrinks when he spots the anger in her body, can feel the moment all wands turn to her, her Lords as well.

"Bella," Her Lord tries to gain her attention.

"I'm sorry." She replies.

Her spell strikes the ground wiping the feet from under them all, causing the Death Eaters to crash to the ground. Her lord is first to rise, but she is already spinning. Disappearing in a blur of blackness, she moves through the sky with such speed her ears pop.

She lands in a flurry, eyes falling to the form in the snow. Time seems to be stuck, her throat constricted. She stares at the figure in the snow blood it coats the body and the snow. She moves, arriving on her knees next to Granger, staring at the mess in front of her. Blood it spurts, too much blood.

Her hand covers the wound, the sticky hot liquid seeping through her fingers. It makes her stomach churn, staring at the deathly pale face, she stares at the young witch. Granger who appears to be a fallen angel ripped from the sky. Her neck and collarbone ripped apart, can see the broken bones, the vein. The blood seeping into the snow, coating her hands.

The wand still held limply she follows the blackened ground, towards the other body fallen in the snow. The unmoving form of Greyback, in his werewolf form dead. She glances to the tip of Grangers wand that is blackened from the unforgivable curse.

Her hearing comes back to the sound of arguing, to Dolohov shouting, and Death Eaters rushing towards them. The Dark lord arriving before her, taking in the destruction. She feels a fool for believing the Dark Lord would keep the mudblood alive, angry at Snape for the betrayal.

"Bella."

"Everything I have ever done is for you," Bella states coldly staring at her Lord unflinching. "I have never nor will I ever betray you, I made you an oath. You let me down, Tom."

Anger it morphs with a tinge of sadness and if she is not mistaken fear. She clutches the limp body close to her, ignoring the call of her Dark Lord. She apparates them away, away from the Death Eaters, the dead and her Lord. They land with a thud, on wooden flooring, the blood is slowing and Granger is feeling increasingly cold in her arms.

She finds a couple staring at them in shock, wands held aloft.

"Help me." Bellatrix orders, aware her disguise has fallen away. They hesitate. "Now."

"We know someone, Frank get the portal. Here use this on her neck, my aunt is a mediwitch we will go to her."

She allows the young woman to apply pressure with a towel to the wound. Hears the crashing in the living room as the other looks for the portal. Turning back to Granger it's the haunting eyes staring back at her that captures her attention. The terrified look, the lips that try to open but only manages to cough blood.

"I… don't want to die." Granger splutters, lips pale, tears painting her cheeks. "please."

"Shush, your going to be okay," The stranger promises Granger, as Bella struggles for words.

"Please," Granger begs again.

The hand clutching Bella's arm falls away, falling limp, the eyes become unseeing. She releases the body, as the stranger pushes her aside starting compressions on Granger's chest. Bella stares back at the unmoving body of Granger, those eyes stuck in fear. _She's dead._


	13. Chapter 13

**A/n:** So, I'm moving in a week, that's why I have spoilt you with two chapters on the off chance I don't get to update in the meantime. I know I may lose some readers with the way this story might go, but all I ask if you give it a go. Read the last A/n at the bottom for more information.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 **CHAPTER WARNING:** **SUICIDAL THOUGHTS. Depression, violence. Trigger warning. Swearing. Please, please read this chapter carefully it does deal with depression and suicide.**

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 _ **Chapter Thirteen**_

 _Fear itself_

" _Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."_

― _J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_

Everything feels heavy as she stirs. Waking is strange as it is difficult. Memories become fleeting, she tries to grab them, to remember how she ended up here. Except it becomes painful, her mind thumps worst than a migraine she stops thinking. Merely allowing her senses to come back to her.

Agonising pain, it laces her whole body, makes it especially painful to breath. To even consider breathing. Voices gain her attention, but the words are nothing but mumbles so she drifts. Through unconsciousness waiting for something to be made clear. Pain comes and goes, she's aware someone is feeding her potions.

Something, however, is different. Her body feels different, not herself. She cannot put her finger on it, the pain becomes constant making her mind fuzzy and the movement impossible. An eye lid opens, forcing unnatural light into her iris, blurry she tries to make sense of everything.

The action is tiring she drifts back asleep once more, listening to the voices. The pain relenting to a dull ache. The memories are quick to come back, her fight with Bellatrix she stormed off, why did she storm off? Greyback.

The name causes panic, she groans allowed, her throat dry, a hand pressing against her arm. She tries to escape the memory, Greyback's fangs tearing into her skin. The pain, the agonising pain as he ripped through her as though she were paper. She killed him. Reacted on instinct, her stomach rolls at the thought, she feels sick.

Oh, she is sick.

She coughs on her own vomit until hands roll her to her side, she pukes. Magic clears her airways she pukes everything she has lost in her memories, tears stinging her eyes. She killed someone. Something dabs at her mouth, cleaning her, too weak to understand she gives up.

Coldness seeps in, she feels trapped beneath a heavy blanket, her body fights itself. Rolling between pain and numbness, her eyes struggle to adjust and she wonders if she is permanently blind. Her hearing is the first to return, she hears the slightest movement. Everything hypersensitive. It's not till the next night does her eyes finally adjust, tiredness playing on her though.

Bellatrix. It is a reassuring sight to see the Dark witch in the night pacing by the fire. She feared she may have been left behind, forgotten in the search of the trials. _He bit me while turned._ Fear is crippling, it makes her nausea once more, hands rolling her again. Except she has nothing to throw up, she merely gags.

He bit her while turned. _AM I a… a werewolf._ She wails that night with tears, from the physical pain and the mental thought she might be a werewolf. She finds comfort in the arms of someone who rocks her to sleep, shushing her through the pain. The warmth of arms that enclose her, the whispering comforting words in her ear.

She comes around, taking in the small medical wing, she wonders where they are. How did they get here? Squinting she makes out the shape of Bellatrix speaking to a mediwitch. Straining to hear, Hermione closes her eyes listening to the hushed voices.

"It's a waste." The stranger replies footsteps moving closer to Hermione's bed.

"Do it."

"She's been bitten," Swallowing, Hermione squeezes her eyes shut hoping to block out the thought. "It is a waste of my supplies to save her. She'll only become a monster."

"I won't say it again." Bellatrix voice like ice adds to the tension. "Give her the medication."

"Her body is accepting the Lycanthrope cells, soon there will be nothing we can do. Her body is slowly adapting, her senses are changing, she will have to learn it all over again. Why put this girl through this, now is the best time to put her out of misery before it's too late. Before there is no going back."

"Last chance."

A mutter leaves the mediwitch a hand carefully cradles her head, a potion to the lips she feels the liquid slide down her throat. A blanket is drawn up to her neck, the muttering of the mediwitch.

"She's already killed, what do you think will happen when she turns, she will kill. Kill anyone, think on that."

Heels click as the mediwitch leaves the room Hermione feels the first tear fall. She's a werewolf she won't be able to control her actions. A hand combs through her hair, another rests on her uninjured neck. Feels the soft press of the forehead, Bellatrix leaning against her the hand comforting.

Her mind goes back to Dolohov when Bellatrix pressed her forehead against her his. Feels a strange warmth spread through her body, a comfort taking hold that stops as Bellatrix pulls away. Leaving her cold and alone with only her demons for company.

"Steady." Is the only word that leaves Bellatrix's lips the next day as she finally wakes from her deep sleep.

The daunting realisation that she is a monster, that she has the ability to become something she fears. Sitting up in her bed, she regards the mediwitch who tends to her wounds, as Bellatrix paces in the background. No one speaks as the healer works, and Hermione wonders if Bellatrix did what Hermione failed to do. Hold someone to ransom in order for help it would explain why Bellatrix has her wand drawn. Another horrible thought springs to mind, maybe the wand is for her. To stop Hermione if she turns.

The look of disgust that she receives from the mediwitch is scathing, it makes her shrink. Conscious of the wound, of the meaning. What would the boys say? Would Hogwarts let her return? Lupin can barely keep a job because of his condition. Her chances of becoming Minister shrink, the chances of becoming anything shrink.

She has nothing, already a mudblood now cursed what hope does she have? When the world finds out, she will be outcasted forgotten about. When the healer leaves the coldness returns as Bellatrix paces by the fire.

"How long was I out?" Hermione asks Bellatrix.

"Two weeks," Bellatrix answers not looking at Hermione as she prods the fire.

"Greyback?"

"Dead."

A hollowness springs in her chest as she watches Bellatrix who doesn't acknowledge her. Sitting alone on the bed she feels lonelier than ever. Her parents gone, her chances to have a normal life diminished. What hope does she have?

It hurts more than she thought it would, Bellatrix not looking at her and the dismissive looks from the healer. No one wants her here.

"Where are we?" Hermione asks on one occasion as she readjusts to walking, Bellatrix browsing through a book.

"Top of the mountain, not far from the town, they had a lot of snow. With the clinic closed the aurors didn't think to look up here." Acknowledging her progress in walking, Bellatrix looks at her with such disinterest she recoils from the cold looks. "Should be able to head out soon."

"Sure," Hermione whispers sinking on to her bed.

"Your making good progress."

"Thanks,"

Nodding, Bellatrix returns to her book, nestled next to the fire, she ignores Hermione who sinks further into her blanket. A coldness settles despite the fire, she curls up on herself.

~~~~~ _ADITM ~~~~~_

Arm slipping from the chair, she startles awake squinting into the dark room, Bella sighs removing the kinks from her back. She fell asleep reading; a strange chill fills the room despite the roaring fire. Rubbing her eyes, she spots the open door frowning, the door usually shut when Francesca retires to her wing for the night.

Rising to her feet she stretches finishing of her butterbeer with one gulp she winces at the taste. Glancing around the room, she checks on Granger's bed - empty. Good, she moves to her own pausing. Empty? Turning she stares at the empty bed, the chilly air and the open door.

Turning, she swings the door wide open, rushing into the corridor. The sound of her heals muffled against the carpet as she follows it along to the entrance, hoping Francesca hasn't bumped the mudblood off while Bella slept. Dread fills her stomach at the sign of the open front door the soft snow flakes drifting in. Another fire crackles by the sofas, the knowing look of Francesca who merely watches Bella with a smirk.

"Where is she?" Bella demands furiously for letting her guard down.

"She went for a walk," Francesca shrugs making notes. "Poor thing wasn't wearing much, but then again I don't think she's planning to come back."

"What did you do?" Bella fumes hand twisting along her wand.

"Nothing, I didn't stop her from leaving. Hopefully, the girl knows what's best for everyone."

Shaking, her head Bella conjures her robe swinging it over her shoulders she braces the cold. A wind blows the snow around, she follows the footsteps away from the clinic.

"Muddy!" She shouts over the wind.

Tracking the foot prints, dread grows as she realises the footprints aren't leading to the village, they're leading to the mountain edge. Bella knows where the girl has gone, she herself likes to gaze down the sharp drop to watch the lights switch off in the mornings. A pretty sight when the sun rises in the morning. Granger, however, is not thinking straight and Bella knows the girl isn't there to take in the views.

Picking up her pace, she stares around searching for her mudblood, promising she is going to curse the little bitch when she gets her hands on her. Feet sinking in the snow she curses herself failing to see any sign of Granger.

"Muddy!" Bella shouts, spotting tracks as they disappear on the rocks.

Climbing on to the rocks edge she navigates the sharp edges, spotting a form standing on the edge staring down. Stepping closer, she studies the witch wearing only a gown despite the freezing temperatures. The vacant look, she has seen it before she steps closer to the witch.

"Muddy, what are you doing?" Bella asks cheerfully.

No answer, the gaze firmly fixed on the sharp drop. Licking her lips, Bella glances back to the safety of the clinic. She is not meant for this, words of encouragement, words of sympathy do not come naturally to her.

"Granger, your going to catch a chill." She tries for concern.

"I don't care." A broken whisper seeming so loud despite the wind. "I'm a monster."

"Nonsense, we can fix your hair, just a bit of bed head."

The joke falls flat, the feet far too close to the edge for comfort. Wand twitching, she wonders if she can pull the witch away from the edge with magic. If she gets it wrong, Granger will jump and no amount of magic will put her back together.

Tongue sweeping her lips, she edges a tiny bit forward, stopping as Granger flinches, hollow eyes turning to Bella. The sight is heart breaking the girl no woman she's a woman seems so lost. A horrible scar lacing her collarbone, a reminder of the tainted blood.

"Come on," Bella says indicating for Granger to come away from the ledge. "Lets head back."

"How can I?" The voice breaks, hands trembling. "What I am, what I've become. The world will hate me, I'm already an outcast for being muggleborn… A werewolf as well?"

"I thought you were all for making a difference?" Bella replies.

"What's the point, nothing ever changes."

Swallowing, Bella is very much aware she is running low on time. She wishes Cissy was here, her sister much better at this than her, always better at understanding others. Another part wants to let the witch jump, let her be foolish, but she fights against the thought.

"If I turn, I will hurt people, I'll be responsible for people dying or turning. I can't, I cannot have that on my conscious. I've already killed Greyback…"

Now she understands, Granger is scared not for herself but harming another. Not wanting to harm her friends or family, she cannot imagine the fear the witch is feeling. Bella herself would hate to turn, to become such a filthy creature is beneath her. The thought is daunting here stands a girl who fears only hurting others. Fears becoming the monster of legend not selfish like Bella, no Granger only cares for those close to her.

She's sure though somewhere deep down, Granger is terrified of her future. Dependant on her education, on becoming something meaningful in the world. Bella has been there before, she wanted to make a change, she never imagined the world would change her. Now here stands Granger destiny has marked her, morphed her future into something tainted. A future that holds little in the way of hope,l family or career.

"He killed you," Bella reveals earning a shocked look. "You died bled to death, Francesca's, niece managed to revive you. I understand your scared, but Greyback deserved it. If you didn't kill him I would have."

"It doesn't make it right. I cannot return home being a risk to my friends."

A foot lifts, moving that step closer. A deep breath as Granger closes eyes preparing herself to let go, to fall to her death. Heart pounding, Bella steals a deep breath the cold air cutting into her lungs. Just a few feet closer she will be able to grab her. To pull her away from the ledge, she still needs Granger, cannot complete the trials alone. Her madness will take over, the whispering in her mind that seem so dormant will return. She will never leave, trapped in a hell worse than Azkaban.

"Hermione." The name falls easily from her lips as dazed eyes turn to her. "Don't do this, I know, know you don't think there's a way out of this, but it can. This can be fixed."

"There's no cure." A cry escapes pale lips.

"No, but we can make this all go away. All of it. You can wish it all away."

Wide eyes turn to Bella, survival kicking in logic taking control. Bella is right of course if they make it to the end they will both have a chance of a wish. Granger can fix this, can take away the curse and return to her friends who be none the wiser. A slow nod from Granger and Bella releases the breath she's been holding. Offering her hand, she wills Granger to accept it to come away from the ledge.

"I can wish it away," Granger whispers as hope flashes in brown eyes.

"Yes, no one would need to know. No one has to get hurt, we can manage this with potions."

Stumbling back from the edge, Granger regards the mountains edge as though seeing it for the first time. Turning to the outstretched hand, Bella dares not take it away. Not wanting to remove the only connection keeping Granger from jumping.

"Promise one thing, if I turn and hurt anyone you end me," Granger says.

"Wouldn't miss the chance," Bella promises with a wink.

"I mean it, Bellatrix," Granger replies hesitantly as she takes the hand. "Please don't let me hurt anyone."

"I promise I will end your life should you turn and kill," Bella promises.

Satisfied, Granger approaches from the rocks unaware of the crossed fingers behind Bella's back. She cannot promise Granger she'll end her, not for something she has no control off. A cold hand slips into hers and she pulls Granger down from the rocks.

Weak legs hop on to the soft snow, regarding the witch, the vacant stare Bella knows they are far from okay. This is a start though, to stop Granger from doing something foolish. One wish they will change everything. With one swift movement, she removes her cloak and covers Granger in it, pulling the witch close to her chest.

Limp Granger rests her head on Bella's chest listening to the steady heartbeat blanketed from reality by a cloak. Resting her head on top of Granger's, Bella resists the urge to curse the stupid witch. The view no longer looks pretty or inviting, it feels stained by the night. They need to leave she needs to get Granger away from Francesca, away from the whispering words of hate.

Allowing the moment, she holds the blanket in place, a heating charm leaving her lips. Warming Granger through, she needs her alive. That's what this is all about, she needs Granger there is no other reason for wanting to save the witch.

Aware Granger is barely standing, Bella sweeps the young witch into her arms, the girl as light as anything. She carries her back across the snow, Granger burrowed deep in the cloak hidden from reality. It's just as well, Bella thinks, let this become a bad dream a forgotten memory.

Pushing the door open, Bella lowers Granger to her feet, feels the flinch as Francesca huffs at the entrance. Disappointment rolling of the mediwitch for allowing Granger to live for not making a sacrifice.

"Go change," Bella orders Granger eyes focussed on the mediwitch. "We're moving out."

Meekly, Granger nods shifting with numb feet along the carpeted floor towards the room. One single lingering look, concern even at this stage for the mediwitch. Despite the hatred shown towards Granger, the young witch still cares for the Mediwitch. Shooing the witch along, Bella turns to Francesca who rises from her seat hand resting on her hip.

It's the telltale click of the bedroom that let's Bella know Granger is far away.

"So? Should have let the bitch jump." Francesca hisses. "She will only infect and kill."

"Crucio."

The spell bounds with uncontrolled rage striking the witch squarely on the chest. She crumples mouth open in shock a scream never leaving their careful bubble. Only Bella will hear these screams, will remember these screams with a smile.

"You broke your oath," Bella hisses grasping the dirty blonde hair as the witch writhers in agony. "You heal, you swore to heal without prejudice. You're the dirt on my shoe. I'm going to take your supplies, I want you to remember this lesson."

Stepping over the squirming body, she pulls a bag, looking at the potions lining the shelves. Collecting the few she needs, wolfsbane she takes most of including the instructions on how to brew a potion. She also helps herself the ingredients, regarding the squirming body. With a flick, she releases the spell the witch gasping for breath.

"Bitch." Francesca spits coughing. "She will rip you to shreds. The moon is due tomorrow, you won't be able to stop it."

"No, I might just bring her here." Bella threatens.

A yelp leaves the healers witch as Bella drags her to her feet by her hair. Throwing the mediwitch back on to the chair she regards her coolly. She wants to do so much more, the mediwitch deserves it.

"Burn in hell." Francesca curses.

A stupefy smacks the healer on the forehead jerking the witch back in the chair. Knocking the healer out, resisting the urge to do worse, Bella waits by the door. Waits for Granger to join her, who does, finally dressed although not as sturdy on her feet.

"She okay?" Granger asks looking at the mediwitch suspiciously.

"Too much excitement. Shall we?"

Hesitant, Granger pauses before accepting the offered arm, studying the healer with worry. The hand curls around her elbow, brown eyes staring inquisitively at Bella who merely shrugs into the apparition.

They land in the middle of a road, at the base of the mountain, where the road has been cleared from snow. A little muggle village not far from the wizarding one. A car sits in the driveway of a house, leading the way, Bella knocks on a random house.

Cautious, Granger follows whispering not to hurt the muggles. A man answers confused by the women and the wand pointing at his face. Imperio. Sitting on the sofa, Granger watches as Bella instructs the family of four to leave, taking their pet dog with them. Leaning against the door frame as the sun peaks above the trees, Bella watches the car pull out the driveway. The family feeling the urge to leave and go away for a few days.

Satisfied the family have gone, she starts casting charms, preparing the house for the first night of Granger's turmoil. Satisfied at the gleaming charms, Bella closes the door helping herself to the milk in the fridge she digs in her bag for the next items.

"Will the charms hold me?" Granger asks from the sofa knees pulled to her chest.

"I don't expect you to change," Bella replies hands closing around the items she's after. "In the off chance you do, the charms are the second defence. These are the first."

They rattle as she pulls them from the bag, her biceps flexing at the movement, eyes widening, Granger stares in shock. Shifting the furniture, Bella reinforces the wall with magic before lifting the first link. She locks it into place, whispering ancient incarnations holding the item in place. The second link is placed further along followed by the third and fourth being secured at the base of the wall.

"Your chaining me up?" Granger whispers staring at the chains in dread.

"Yes," Bella replies admiring the chains.

"Won't I just break out of them."

"No," Bella whispers running her hands along the chains. "They're specially made, nothing gets out of these."

"Specially made for what?" Hermione asks.

"Made from Dragon bone, forged in the hottest pits by ancient spells, these chains will never break. Will never grow old or rust. Neither will they allow one to slip free, the more you struggle the heavier they become the tighter they grow until you can no longer move." Bella whispers almost cooing at the chains. "They were made for me."

"Why? Who were you going to use them on?"

"No, pet, they were made to contain me. To withstand my magic, my father paid Goblins to craft them. They're invaluable a wonder on their own."

Smiling, Bella pulls away from the chains and the memories she notices the gulp from Granger. She supposes the history is dark, but some demons are better restrained. Reaching once more into her bag she retrieves a potion.

"Come on," Bella murmurs placing the potion aside they need something to eat. Pausing in the kitchen she stares at the strange objects. "Do you know how to operate these."

Chuckling, Granger nods sliding from the sofa she proceeds to operate the muggle contraptions as Bella sits on the counters. Granger informs her of stories cooking with her nan, eyes alive with memories.

"I always wondered how she managed to cook so much, makes so much sense now. I always wondered why she never told me about being a witch."

Listening, Bella wonders too why Granger's nan kept being a witch secret. Was she hiding? Maybe when this is all over she will investigate Granger's family. Search the records at the Ministry for the truth of Granger's nan.

The food is acceptable, the chains a reminder of the evening that seems to be rushing towards them. Finally accepting the idea, Granger takes a deep breath standing next to the chains. Nervously running her fingers along her wrists, she surrenders her wand.

Lifting the chains, Bella secures them to the ankles first the loud click echoing in the house. It feels odd, almost wrong to secure Granger down, she leaves the hands free for the time. Allowing Granger to grow comfortable with the weight of the chains.

"They're so lightweight," Granger comments shifting her ankles.

"They're not active yet," Bella replies reaching for the potion. "This will be nasty."

She knows this she took wolfsbane by accident when drunk, hoping to find another potion. Violently sick the next day she had to listen to Cissy lecture about the dangers of potions. Uncorking the potion, Granger hesitates as winces at the smell. A faint shade of teal floats into the air, Bella frowns at the sight, a smell of strong berry makes Bella turn.

"Doesn't smell that bad," Granger comments.

Alarm bells sound in Bella's head, as Granger swigs at the potion, hand swiping through the air she smacks the potion from Granger's hands. It smashes against the blush carpet the small amount of liquid left hisses as it dissolves. Mouth open, Granger raises her hands in silent question.

"What was that for?" Granger demands.

"P…"

The word dies on her lips as Granger gags, clutching her stomach she turns pale. A yell leaves her lips as she collapses to her knees. Whimpering she clutches her belly in agony, eyes screwed shut. Poison. She vomits as her lunch comes back up as she falls to her side whimpering.

Turning Bella summons her bag searching through the stolen ingredients as Granger begins to convulse on the floor. Eyes rolling back, phlegm appearing at her mouth, sweat breaks out as she struggles to catch her breath.

Her hand closes around the item, atropine. She thanks her old potions professor for the knowledge quick to slide next to Granger. She gives the antidote pushing it into the open mouth. Using water to wash it down and her wand to stop Granger from chocking to death.

The convulsing slows as she wipes away the phlegm and removes the sickness. Granger, however, doesn't wake, doesn't stir from her collapse. She tries to revive the witch with her wand but is unsuccessful. Checking the pulse she finds it weak but beating none the less. Relieved, she clicks the two chains into place.

Stepping back she checks the wards one last time as she apparates away, with the furious speed she appears outside the mediwitches house. She blows the door down, furious for being tricked. That the witch managed to out smart Bella and trick Granger into taking the poison.

An empty house greets her, adding to her anger as she stares around. She triggers a charm jumping back as a figure appears before her. The beaming face of Francesca a smirk firmly planted.

"If you've returned I can only assume the witch is dead, at least I hope she is. You see Bellatrix, I would never help you keep that filth alive. My son, he was bitten by the beast Greyback many years ago. I watched him suffer every day with the curse until I ended it, the suffering. Put him out of his misery. I was strong, I expect you to be strong. If you stopped the poison however, it doesn't matter you have doomed her. She won't need the moon to turn now, she will turn whenever the beast rears it's the ugly head. She will never be safe and only then will you have to put her down like the filthy mutt she is. Never threaten my family again. Good luck Lestrange. I hope she eats you first."

The figure vanishes leaving Bella alone in the cold empty house, she should have slit the bitches throat. Furious, she sets fire to the practice, she may not have the witch but nor will allow the woman to return home. No, when this is all said and done, she will hunt down the mediwitch and make the actions on the Longbottom's seem a blessing.

The windows blow from the force of the fire, satisfied she watches the house burn, before apparating away. Allowed through the charms she hopes to find Granger waiting for her but disappointed to see the witch still passed out on the floor.

Checking the pulse, Bella sighs glad to find the witch still breathing she settles on the chair near the window. Watches the night arrive, dosing off to the soft breathing of the witch on the floor.

A shiver wakes her, stirring her from her deep slumber the hairs on her neck standing up. Cracking her knuckles, she rubs her eyes still night time. She wonders what has woken her, to disturb her sleep. The house is still empty nothing is moving, her wand still secured in her hand, but she remains awake.

The creaking of chains makes her freeze, the grating moving near her in the dark amber eyes gleam. Sucking in a deep breath she grips her wand heart pounding as the eyes move closer. The chains rattle at the movement can almost imagine how heavy they must be but they move easily. Slowly sitting up she stops as the moon gives light to the creature in the room. A snarling lip emerges from the shadows, a giant paw pads a few feet of her chair.

 _Fuck._ She's huge, giant. It moves fully into the light the moon gleaming of the white fur, as legs flex. The face within inches of Bella's face, she watches as saliva drips to the cold floor.

"Granger," Bella greets quietly, swallowing as the eyes glint.

A manic grin spreads across Bella's face studying the creature in front of her, she has never seen a werewolf this big. This strong so calm, perhaps it's the poison she doesn't know, but she wants to stroke it. Her mind tells her to be scared that she should run, but another thought becomes louder.

"Your fucking beautiful," Bella whispers at the creature.

* * *

A/n: So, as I've said some people don't enjoy werewolves. I won't lie, I love werewolves but I hate most stories about them. So I just ask please give this story a go, it won't be your average story, I don't do average stories. Also I know Hermione has had a shit time, but it's all for a good reason I swear. I'm actually excited about this story, interested in taking things a different route. Always keen to hear your thoughts. Also both girls will be entering back into the trials once more in the following chapter. Like I said, it's going to get crazy or crazier.

A big thank you to all my supporters and those who R&R. I read them all, they keep me motivated. I've got a lot on so will upload when possible. If however I go a few weeks it's just because I'm moving houses so a lot of stuff to organise. Till next time...


	14. Chapter 14

**A/n** : This will be the last update for a little while so I will return when I have finished moving, please be patient. Also may I just add, I read all of my reviews, all of them. I take note of everything that is said, to the ones who believe that their pov doesn't matter, your wrong. Without your reviews, then there would be no story as honourable as it is being an author you guys love, I am nothing without you. You all make this worth it, so thank you. To the readers who aren't so sure on how this story is going to go but are willing to stick it out, I hope you know that means everything to me. I will endeavour to make it worth your time.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 **CHAPTER WARNING:** Depression, violence. Trigger warning. Swearing.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen**

 _Faithless_

" _A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow."_

 _-William Shakespeare_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Something, terrible has happened, I knew I might not have made it home, alive, but I never anticipated this. Never this, it hurts so much. To know I may never have a normal life to never taste what it means to have a family. I had so many plans, now they just seem so absent, so very far away. There's hope though, it seems faint I have to endure hell to escape becoming a devil of the night._

 _She's doing everything though, everything in her power to support me. I never would have thought it possible, but I think she cares? I'm not sure, maybe it's just survival, she needs me I need her. Except, now I am more than just a brain, I am the danger, the unknown. She should have let me jump._

 _The truth is I cannot thank her enough. Granted this is her fault, she knows that I know that, but she is making this easy. I don't know anymore, lines are blurring, everything used to be so clear. I learnt something and now it's seared in my head I'm not sure what I can trust. Whom I can trust._

 _I'm not sure how much longer I will survive if I don't succumb to the monster in me, I've asked Bellatrix to kill me. Made her promise to end me. You'll think me mad, but it's no good I cannot hurt another person._

 _I love you._

 _Your best friend._

 _Hermione._

 _~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~_

 _Fangs rip through her flesh, the jaw clenching the crunching of bone as it snaps under the force. Her scream is deafening, lost in the snow white ground. Her blood spurts, covering her, tainting the ground. His burning eyes the stench of his breath, the smell of iron. He ragged her like a doll, tearing into her flesh into her side. Large paws pinning her down, she's going to die._

Jolting, her eyes snap open there's no snow. Lying face first on a blush carpet, a groan escapes her lips. She feels bruised, everything aches as though she's been stretched like dough pulled taunt. Her body feels unnatural, too heavy to move.

Blowing the hair from her eyes, she winces at the sunlight flooding the room. Fear takes hold when she realises, she cannot move her arms or legs. Pinned under incredible heavy chains, immobilised by the weight. A shiver sends goosebumps through her until she realises, she's naked wearing no clothes and completely vulnerable on the floor.

Sucking in a deep breath she tries with all her might to push to her knees, to at least move. The chains barely shake, leaving her lying on her side, trapped. Mind groggy, she tries to recall the night before did she hurt anyone? Where's Bellatrix? Did she hurt the witch and is she now trapped here, alone?

 _Nothing happened, the chains are still here. Still, the same house, stop panicking._ Deep breathes she tries to regain some composure emotions frayed from the previous events. Her skin feels foreign not belonging to her, a strange development. She smells cinnamon, inhaling she takes a lung full, the hidden whiff of coconut shampoo.

Warm hands press against her bare back making her jump, blushing at her nakedness she wishes to cover herself. Her buttocks on display for the world to see, more importantly for the dark witch to admire.

"Morning," Bellatrix's voice is too loud for her thundering head. "Sleep well?"

Not answering, Hermione manages to glare over her shoulder at the witch who merely chuckles. Silently she asks the chains to be removed, an eyebrow raises at the request a slight shake of the head.

"Aww pet, I was enjoying the view." Bellatrix taunts a hand absently running up Hermione's back making the hairs on her neck stand up.

"Didn't know I was your type." Hermione rasps her throat dry she winces at the pain.

"Ah, your probably sore you did howl the neighbourhood down."

"I did?"

"Hmm, noisy shit," Bellatrix comments leaning against Hermione as she eats her toast. "Had me up all night whimpering and howling."

"How… did I…"

"Hurt anyone?"

She nods, dreading the response, did she hurt the witch. The witch seems fine, except Hermione is struggling to see more than the mass of hair and hear the chomping of food.

"Nope, I was hoping for carnage." Bellatrix comments. "Unfortunately, you were quite subdued."

A wand appears, releasing Hermione's wrists first, hands instinctively massaging the redness. The click of the chains as they fall away from her ankles brings relief. She feared Bellatrix was going to leave her tied down all day. A blanket drops on to her lap, as Bellatrix rolls the chains back up.

Wrapping the blanket around her she absently notes the torn clothes on the floor. Her stomach rumbles as Bellatrix dusts crumbs from her chest. It's early the sun not fully risen, yet everything feels so very loud. A horn sounding makes her jump, her movement startling the dark witch.

"What?" Bellatrix demands.

"Horn outside."

"What horn?"

Confused, Hermione swore she heard a horn outside, maybe she's hearing things. Resting her head against the sofa, she's very much aware of burnt toast and raspberry jam. The rasping noise as Bellatrix dusts away the crumbs. The loud clinking of chains as she wraps them up and secures them away for future use.

The sound of birds singing soothes her as does the muttering of muggles waking in their houses to begin their day. She didn't realise how loud people were, how loud birds were in the morning. The smell of cinnamon returns, strong, incredibly so.

"What was it… I like?" Hermione asks her mouth dry.

"Huge," Bellatrix comments. "Over six foot, wouldn't have thought you, capable Granger. You had a strong coat; pure white it was like snow. Seems fitting I suppose. Not mangy like Lupin or Greyback, no you were fully transformed. I almost thought the chains weren't going to hold you."

Observing Bellatrix, Hermione notes the way the dark witches eyes light up recounting the previous night. Can almost feel the excitement radiating of the dark witch… Did Bellatrix like werewolves? It almost seems surreal, Bellatrix hates tainted blood yet she appears to almost enjoy Hermione's transformation.

"Can you remember anything?" Bellatrix asks dark eyes observing Hermione.

Shaking her head, Hermione stares tiredly at the ceiling. "Just fleeting thoughts, emotions. I just remember feeling… scared. I suppose two beings trapped in one body must be odd for it to take control."

"Not two," Bellatrix replies. "One, you are one."

"I'm not a monster."

"No, nor was it. It was just scared. Confused, perhaps you should try to understand it? Study the effects?"

"You think I want this?" Hermione snaps eyes ablaze.

"I'm not saying that," Bellatrix answers calmly.

"No, because this doesn't affect you. It's just me, and my curse."

Hermione pushes to her feet angry, too fast the blood rushes to her head. She loses her balance legs weak from the night before from the transformation. She stumbles, hands failing to grab the sofa she pitches forward.

The floor rushes to meet her, closing her eyes she waits for the contact, the rush of air against her face. Squinting, she stares at the floor inches from her nose, the smell of coconuts. Absently her body informs her of the arms around her waist, Bellatrix holding her up.

Hands clenching, she hates this, hates being weak in front of Bellatrix. Of not understanding, her body failing to respond to her orders. A hand moves her arm locking it in place over strong shoulders, a firm hand secured around her waist. Bellatrix guides her through the house to the back room, to a double bed that looks slept in. Was this where Bellatrix was this morning?

Weakly she clutches the blanket to her chest, ashamed of her nakedness. Ashamed of the tainted blood running through her veins, of her weakness. She doesn't want Bellatrix's tenderness, it makes the situation feel more real. She'd prefer the anger, prefer Bellatrix to be cursing her. _Do we really?_

No, she doesn't want anymore pain, she just wants to curl up and sleep for a century. Closing her eyes, she refuses to acknowledge the dark witch feels the soft duvet being pulled over her. The noise outside is deafening she can hear a tap dripping, can smell bacon and roasting peanuts.

"For the record." Bellatrix voice is soft, quiet. "It didn't look like a curse."

The words penetrate deep, as the soft click of heels announce Bellatrix walking away. Clutching the duvet, Hermione considers the words, what did she look like turned? Why isn't Bellatrix disgusted? She cannot help but listen as Bellatrix returns a clink of glass, the pop of a potion being uncorked. The items being left on the bedside table near her ready for when she fully wakes up.

Her hand shoots out on its own accord, clutching Bellatrix's wrist, feels the dark witch grow tense beneath her fingers. Can feel the thumping of blood running through Bellatrix's veins.

"Stay," Hermione whispers not opening her eyes hating the desperation. "Please, I don't want to be alone."

Wriggling free, Bellatrix slips from her grip, the footsteps moving away from the bed. With a deep sigh, Hermione thought the request too much. Why does she need the dark witch? _I find comfort in her presence._

The bed dips, the shuffling of the duvet as Bellatrix climbs on the bed behind her staying out of the duvet. She settles down behind Hermione, backs touching, a huff leaving Bellatrix's lips despite Hermione's smile.

"Thank you." Hermione eventually says satisfied the dark witch isn't leaving.

Plumping the pillows, Bellatrix shifts the quilt, like a cat she creates a nest. Sighing at the inconvenience every so often as she moves. Eventually, she settles once more their backs touching through the quilt.

"Don't tell everyone," Bellatrix grumbles. "Have a reputation to uphold. Don't need everyone wanting cuddles from aunty Bellatrix."

Snorting, Hermione buries her face in the pillow.

"Can you imagine if Potter learnt of this?" Bellatrix continues muttering under her breath. "He'd want cuddles too, then what would my Lord say?"

"He might get jealous," Hermione mutters. "He might want cuddles too."

"Along as I'm the big spoon."

The comment sends Hermione into a fit of giggles, the thought of Bellatrix and Voldemort spooning both hilarious and disturbing. Can feel the vibration of the snicker from Bellatrix, she falls into a dreamless sleep content.

~~~~~ _ADITM ~~~~~_

The air is crisp, one of those spring mornings that brings a promise of a better future. It fills her lungs with comfort, the soft chirping of the birds, flowers blooming around her feet. Except snow has covered the ground, the sun remains high in the sky, the air brisk with a winter breeze. Yet, she knows spring is there, knows there are flowers beneath her feet. That nature is coming to life and that is enough to gain her attention.

It's a fast learning curve, she prides herself on how well she learns, this, however, is not something to be gained from the books. They realised quite early that morning her senses were intense. The only word to describe the change. Her hearing increased, her sense of smell doubling, she hears things from streets over. It's confusing, it's terrifying and if the grinning Bellatrix is to go by, at least one of them is excited.

"Greyback never told me this," Bellatrix grumbles circling Hermione. "Bastard, think of all the fun I could have had, scaring him with fireworks."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione tries to ignore the witch, they don't have long to understand her change. They will have to learn as they go, she's a book worm she prefers to study and then apply in practice. It, however, would appear she would not get that luxury, they have the trials to complete Hermione will have to learn quickly.

"So," Bellatrix groans drawing out the word, impatient to see some action. "Think you can climb walls?"

"I'm not spiderman," Hermione replies.

"No, you are a werewolf," Bellatrix states confused. "You weren't bitten by a spider."

"No, it's a super… Oh never mind." Hermione waves the conversation away. "It's just my senses, that's all."

"That is deflating, boring." Bellatrix comments.

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know something more interesting, why else would I be standing in the forest with you? I'm not here for the fun you know."

"No, your just here to annoy me."

"Oh, annoying you, am I?" Bellatrix snaps, anger like a storm it returns just as fierce. "Sorry, muddy but this isn't all about you."

"No, it's your selfish desires."

A shove pushes Hermione backwards stumbling into the tree behind, their neutral friendship fracturing. Hermione can almost see it, splintering in her hands, dripping like acid into the snow. How fragile is it, that one fight can ruin them and one fight can destroy something so very precious? She shoves back.

"Watch yourself muddy, we all have our inner demons, yours is just a bit prettier."

"At least I can get rid of mine," Hermione growls furiously.

The hand lashes, curling around her throat pushing her back into the bark of the tree. Eyes ablaze, Hermione wants to smack the smug smile right from Bellatrix's face. To scream bloody murder. _To rip her apart._ The thought startles Hermione, a thought unbidden she almost doesn't register the hand nor Bellatrix taunting.

"You ever…" Bellatrix continues raging, but Hermione ignores it.

Breaking the hold, she pushes the witch away startling the dark witch who stumbles backwards. _It'll be easy one bite, done._ Her body twitches violently, a hand lashes out smacking into the bark of the tree, the soft snow fall falling on to her back. On impulse, her neck twists, feels the desire running along her spine like spiders' legs. Tempting, prodding, wishing to engage the beast.

It's the warm hand pressing to her collarbone over her scar, the soft body pressing against her back. Bellatrix's smell cocoons her, such violent hands gentle against her body, guiding her. A hand pressing against her abdomen, venomous lips brush against her ear.

"Breath in," Bellatrix orders the hands strong and steady. "Breath out, that's it pet. In, out. Listen to my voice."

The voice is like honey, a warm buzz fills her head, the softness of Bellatrix's coconut hair pressed against her forehead. The strange magic calms her, soothes her pounding mind, the hands grounding her to reality. The spell or magic, what ever Bellatrix is doing soothes the beast. Calms the werewolf raging to get out.

When Hermione comes out the trance, she finds herself pinned by the black eyes, so very close their noses inches apart. Bellatrix's eyes search hers looking for something, perhaps to see if there's any sign of the beast. Satisfied, Bellatrix pulls away the warm feeling broken with the loss of contact.

The hands remain planted, holding Hermione still, allowing her to come back to her senses. Swallowing, brown eyes focus on the tree, the large chunk missing and the ache in her hands. _Oh my._ She did that, lifting her hand she notices the redness and the slight swelling.

"Exciting," Bellatrix comments admiring the slight destruction.

"Not a word I would use," Hermione replies as the hand on her abdomen pulls away.

It's comforting the hand on her scar, it's the last to leave, as two hands survey the damage to Hermione's right hand. Bellatrix turning her hand palm upwards pulling gauze from her bag, she begins to wrap the hand.

"So, anger is a trigger," Bellatrix notes patting Hermione's wrapped hand.

"Apparently," Hermione agrees as she flexes her hand.

They had formed some sort of idea back at the house to test Hermione's resolve, to test her mental state. To see if the beast would rear, after learning Hermione can turn at any time, Hermione thought it best to study her reactions to situations. Bellatrix only too happy to agree, happy to prod the creature from it's hiding.

Sadness didn't work, nor did happiness no, it would appear anger and threat to her life made her blood boil. The beast comes alive. She can manage the new senses, but they both needed to know her new limits.

"Satisfied?" Bellatrix asks unhooking the chain from Hermione's ankles before removing the charms around them. "Any more tests?"

"No," Hermione replies the rest will be learnt on the journey. "Just need to take up meditation."

"I can teach you that," Bellatrix comments folding the chains once more.

"You meditate?"

"Frequently."

She cannot imagine the dark witch meditating; the idea appears foreign. Stifling the laugh, she waits for Bellatrix to announce it a joke. Nothing.

"So?" Bellatrix asks slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Start tonight?"

"Your serious?"

"Pet, how else do you think I survived Azkaban?"

She opens her mouth hoping for a witty retort but nothing comes to mind. She simply nods, satisfying Bellatrix who begins to move through the forest back towards the wizarding town. Following behind, Hermione wonders what else the witch did to survive Azkaban for so long.

The thought brings another, what happened between Bellatrix and Voldemort? How did the witch escape, did they fight? What did she miss when falling prey to Greyback?

"This is going to get loud," Bellatrix comments waving her wand, setting their charms to protect them from view.

Using her own wand, Hermione casts a charm protecting her own sensitive ears to the hustle and bustle of the town. The snow turns to cobbled streets as they head to the town, except it's not like it was before. The streets remain empty a few shops burnt out, doors boarded up. No one makes eye contact as they rush about their business, the café they stopped at remains closed. Stopping behind Bellatrix, a sinking feeling fills her stomach, guilt manifests in Hermione. They are responsible for this; the Death Eaters came for them and the town paid the price.

A newspaper trapped against the wet street catches her attention, moving closer she stares at the front page. Aware Bellatrix has joined her, a new solemn feeling takes over.

 _ **Hermione Granger, Dead?**_

 _Following a recent skirmish, it is reported Miss Granger was killed by Death Eaters. Locals reported fighting, the recent Azkaban escapee and mass murderer Bellatrix Lestrange was sighted. Bellatrix Lestrange escaped once more when Aurors appeared the fighting had ended and they discovered the body of the notorious Werewolf Greyback, dead. Not far was the scene of a blood bath, the blood tested reported to belong to Miss Granger. A spokesman for the Auror's had this to say._

" _As explained if Miss Granger survived the initial attack, she would have bled out instantly, she would have succumbed to her injuries within minutes. The nearby hospital was shut, it would appear no one has seen Miss Granger since the attack. At this stage, we are reporting Miss Granger deceased until further evidence suggests otherwise."_

Dated only a couple days ago, Hermione swallows, the world thinks she's dead. No one will be looking for her, which is great except for when she returns home. Will they think it to be a trick, will they trust her?

"We'll find a way to let them know your alive," Bellatrix says.

Nodding, Hermione follows the witch along the street, her heels clicking, they pass the rows of shops guilt setting in deep. The boys will think her dead? Her friends, her school would they have a funeral? Would they believe the report? She would be dead if it weren't for Bellatrix.

"I suppose this makes us even," Hermione comments as they walk.

"Even?" Bellatrix asks suspiciously.

"I saved your life, you saved mine even."

"Your forgetting your little stint in the ice where you drowned? It's not a competition, but I'm winning, two to me I believe."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione doesn't respond, trust Bellatrix to save her twice just to make a point. Pausing outside the large building, Hermione realises the burnt out business was where Bellatrix abandoned her to speak to someone. Now the building is just a shell, a ruin. Sensing the sorrow, Hermione glances towards the book shop in the distance.

"Catch me up?" Hermione asks noticing the mark left by Aurors. Investigating the death.

A nod is the only reply, Hermione watches Bellatrix slip across the charm preventing anyone from interfering with the crime scene. Standing over the mark left, turning Hermione looks away from the scene. Heading towards the book shop she notices it's locked up tight. Sighing, she leans against the window watching the few people as they pass by.

"I'm glad to see it's a lie." The voice startles her, the strong smell of whiskey almost nausea. "I didn't think you had died."

Turning, Hermione regards Thorns smoking a cigar near the little alleyway. The puff of the cigar illuminating the end, lighting his dull eyes. He regards Hermione, studying her in the way she studies for her examines.

"Your different?" he comments.

"Long story,"

"The best ones are." He chuckles.

"She saved me," Hermione answers the unspoken question watching Bellatrix in the distance.

"Why?"

"I don't know." Hermione shrugs because she didn't know. "Perhaps she doesn't want to be alone."

"Perhaps she's not the bad guy people think she is?"

"She won't talk of it."

"No, I don't imagine she ever will." Thorns agree. "But you are second guessing now."

"I will admit, the facts don't add up."

"That's all I ever wanted, was someone to understand that something was wrong."

"Will you do me something." Hermione says turning to Thorns. "in return, I promise I will find out the answer to the Longbottom's. I know you might not live to see it, but I will find the truth."

"That's all I ever wanted. What do you want?"

"Do you still have contacts with the papers?"

"Yes, why?"

"Let them know, let them know I'm still alive. That I am living and breathing. Please."

"How?"

"Thorns?" The voice startles them both, Bellatrix standing next to them.

"Be… Bellatrix." Thorns replies as he drops his cigar.

"So, this is your little informant." Bellatrix realises, putting the pieces together. "Filling Granger's head with conspiracy's I see?"

To both their surprises, Bellatrix doesn't attack him she merely comes to stand besides Hermione, waiting for the witch to finish the conversation.

"I asked him to pass word I'm alive." Hermione relays her plan to Bellatrix.

"Smart," Bellatrix nods. "How are you going to do that?"

"Do you have a camera?" Hermione asks Thorns.

Mutely, he nods, before realising he needs his camera, he scurries off back into the shop. She shares a look with Bellatrix, who twirls her wand.

"What's the plan?" Thorns ask out of breath camera in his hand.

They find the portkey to the next level both regarding the town, knowing when the picture is released, they will be hunted again. It's for the best if the world thinks her dead then she will lose so much. Bellatrix will be hunted by aurors for killing her, this way, Bellatrix is not a murderer, Hermione is alive and her friends won't mourn.

Something feels different as they approach the portkey, something shifted between them. A stronger bond perhaps? She's cannot put her finger on it, but she's grateful Bellatrix is with her. That Bellatrix didn't leave her behind.

Hands itching to touch the key, Hermione stuffs the last of her chocolate bar into her mouth. Her hunger almost insatiable, Bellatrix happily reminder her she's eating for two. Hermione quick to remind the dark witch she's not pregnant.

"I didn't know," Bellatrix breathes studying the silent forest. "I didn't know he had something on me."

Not daring to breath, to interrupt the revelation fearful Bellatrix will never speak to it again. Desperate to understand and hoping that Bellatrix didn't kill Sirius, even though she knows she did. Saw it with her own eyes.

" _Sirius_ ," Bellatrix hisses the name as though Hermione didn't already know who the witch meant. "If I had known he had something on me. I… I wouldn't have killed him, it would have been too dangerous. No, I would have forced him to reveal what he had on me. On what evidence he dares insinuate I am innocent. As it was, I didn't know. I don't suppose you know what he had?"

"No," Hermione whispers the word.

"Fair enough." Bellatrix shakes her head grabbing Hermione's wrist as she reaches for the key. "It was odd though, we always duelled before the war and during. I will admit it took me by surprise when I struck him. Many times, before we've duelled, his never… Doesn't matter, we all have our off days. Perhaps he was distracted, I was more disappointed than anything. We always had good duels, a rival to my skill. It was a waste to see him fall so easily."

The tug of the portkey breaks their moment, but Hermione's mind isn't on their next level it's on the admission. Did Bellatrix feel remorse for Sirius death, it's no secret the Dark witch always admires skill. Was Sirius distracted that night? Distracted by Harry, or something else? She doesn't know, but she vows to figure it out.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/n:** Hello, apologies for the long delay, I was moving house and counties. But I am finally settled, will be returning to work soon too which is exciting. I am sorry about the delay, but I did forewarn. Anyway, normal service should resume.

 **Warning:** this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 **CHAPTER WARNING** : Violence. Mentions of death.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen**

 _ **The Bitter Pill**_

 _The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is. Winston Churchill_

Something festers deep inside, he attributes the emotion to guilt with its rotten eggs that release their toxin. It spreads until it can spread no more and his shoulders remain heavy with blood on his hands. Because it's down to him, down to his word that blood remains spilt. He may not have done the action, but once more he is responsible for the death of another.

It's the tainted hands he stares at now, palms facing upwards he can imagine the crimson liquid dripping free. The fire burns brightly behind them, the smell of smoke, doesn't replace the imaginary smell of iron. He could argue, argue till he's blue in the face that it didn't matter he was ordered to divulge the information. The death doesn't rest solely on his shoulder, but it's only his shoulders that remain slumped.

He didn't particularly like Granger, never the less he never wanted her to fall to foul play. His word had sent the Dark Lord hunting for Bellatrix, his word that told them she would still be there. Only Bellatrix would bluff the Dark Lord, she would still be in the same area. He just knew it, even when Dolohov proclaimed, she was gone, that she apparated away.

He thought he was wrong at first until news travelled amongst the Death Eaters until the Dark Lord summoned him. Greyback was dead and as a result, so was Granger. He congratulated Snape, a pat on the back for seeing through Bellatrix's deception. He reported the news to Dumbledore, who applauded him of a job well done.

" _We will mourn Miss Granger, a terrible tragedy. At least she is now free."_

Granger was free, death had promised that the Aurors had concluded her to be dead. So why did he not feel happy for her ordeal to be over? _Because she was willingly helping Bellatrix… They seemed almost friends._

He had reported to Dumbledore that Bellatrix wouldn't release Granger, he may have omitted Granger's willingness to stay. He reported to the Dark Lord, Bellatrix was alive and well, that she still had the mudblood. He left out their banter, their friendlessness because he too could not fathom their friendship.

Bellatrix is a vile human, cruel, manipulative and above all insane. None the less, Granger remained willing to help, they were civil. Bellatrix was different from her usual self, she seemed almost relaxed. He could explain it all away, Bellatrix was manipulating Granger, it was all possible but it didn't fit.

It doesn't matter, Granger had fallen to Greyback, had died and no analysing could bring her back. To say the Order was affected would be an understatement he has yet to see Tonks' hair become anything other than black. Blaming herself and only herself for failing Granger. If only she knew the truth that none of this had to happen if Dumbledore had chosen to play a different card. If he never told the Headmaster or the Dark Lord.

The pacing of feet distracts him, Dumbledore searching through books, looking for something. Trying to understand what Bellatrix was hunting for, what ancient magic had been activated. Those shoulders don't appear slumped the weight of his world does not appear affected by Granger's demise.

A loud knock on the door startles them both, rising to his feet, Severus leans against the fire place. Waiting for the person who disturbs their meeting, wondering what was so urgent, the knocking becoming louder.

"Enter," Dumbledore calls peering over his glasses at the door. "Ah, Harry what can I do for you?"

Stifling a groan at the boy, Severus folds his arms as Potter and Weasley rush into the room. Bringing with them an air of anticipation, he wonders if the boy has figured it out yet. What Dumbledore really expects from him, he doubts it. Potter is far from the smartest and with Weasley by his side, he doubts they will survive the year.

"I'm sorry to interrupt sir…" Potter trails off noticing Severus by the fire.

"Quite alright, what can I do for you both?" Dumbledore asks placing the book aside.

It's unusual, Potter and Weasley along with many Gryffindor's have done nothing but mourn for Granger. In some respects the death of Granger has eased the attention from Draco allowing him to continue his task to kill Albus. Another situation they had messed up, which they have yet to consider an alternative option.

"Shall we come back?" Harry asks once more looking to Severus.

He resists the eye roll, hasn't the boy figured it out yet? That the only reason he got this far is that Severus puts everything on the line. He risks everything for and no one notices.

"I'm sure whatever is this urgent, Professor Snape can hear."

He watches the boys look towards one another considering telling Dumbledore and Snape. Dumbledore shares and amused look with Severus as they wait.

"Show 'em." Weasley urges Potter, nudging his arm. "He'll see it anyway."

"What is it you wish to share with me?" Albus questions regarding the paper in Potter's hand with curiosity.

"She's alive," Potter exclaims excitedly disregarding Snape altogether.

The words are like a catalyst, it opens several Severus scenarios. Who is alive? To which person is Potter referring to, but their excitement can only mean one person. Their relief is palpable, the shock on Albus confirms Severus's suspicions as he moves to inspect the paper in Albus's hand.

"Hermione, she's alive." Weasley insists grinning with Potter.

"This is brilliant news, a shock as you can imagine, but a great… relief." Albus nods passing the paper to Severus outstretched hand.

Clutching the paper, Severus dares not look, what happens if it's all a trick. Something devised to relieve his guilt, he already lost one muggleborn to ill advised information. He stares at the picture, there is no mistaking it.

Bellatrix, hands clutching Granger pulling he into an apparition, a spell blaring towards the camera it blinks out. Repeating, from the start, a snarl forming on Bellatrix's lips, the spell the hands pulling Granger away. The mark on Granger's neck and shoulder, wasn't there when he last saw her. She survived.

"Isn't this great!" Weasley declares. "She survived."

No, Severus thinks this is far from great, it means Granger has possibly been turned. More importantly, how did Granger survive or why did Bellatrix keep the witch alive. More troubling is the photo, he shares one single look with Albus they both noticed. The photo is staged, they are no longer enemies… they are friends.

~~~~~ _ADITM ~~~~~_

"I think it's ridiculous." Bellatrix comments.

Smirking, Hermione shoots the witch a suspicious look earning a grin in response. Of course, Bellatrix is pulling her leg. Shaking her head, Hermione tucks her hands in to her pockets to keep them warm. They wander along the less trodden path heading further into the forest, trees pressing in closer from each side. Anything to distract from their current position, the omen in the air.

"What was your favourite subject?" Hermione asks.

"Guess," Bellatrix remarks, flicking lint from her shoulder.

"Defence against the ark arts?" Hermione guesses.

"Nope, wrong."

"Really? I would have thought it would be right up your street."

"I had the best training possible from home, what Hogwarts had to offer was poor in comparison."

"So, what was your favourite subject?"

"Charms."

Raising an eyebrow, Hermione struggles to keep the surprise from her face, she had not expected Bellatrix's favourite subject to be charms. Not when the woman was so volatile, so proficient in duelling.

"You seem surprised?" Bellatrix comments. "I'm going to guess your favourite is transfiguration?"

"yeah, how did you know?"

"You seem to be a McGonagall favourite, given how turbulent the DADA's have been you're a stickler for a routine. You don't seem to enjoy Herbology, muggle studies would be wasted on you and history puts anyone to sleep. Given your reaction to Snape, I'd say potions is out of the window which leads Divination. Since you're a science girl, that's just going to clash with everything you believe, also given your reaction just now, I'd say Trelawney rubbed you up the wrong way."

Dumb struck, Hermione tries to process the information, how did Bellatrix understand her so well? Even the boys forget what her favourite class is, but Bellatrix got it straight away. The knowing look is frustrating, Bellatrix a master at reading people.

"How?"

"It's what I do pet, read people." Bellatrix shrugs.

"Why charms?" Hermione asks eventually.

"How else to protect yourself than making sure no one will make it past your shields, mental or physical."

It makes sense, no wonder Bellatrix would choose charms how else do you keep people out than a perfectly placed charm.

Crack.

Bellatrix's wand is already pointed towards the forest, towards the sound of a twig snapping. Gripping her own wand, they both wait as they watch the bushes for any movement. Tense, Hermione strains to listen, wincing at the musty smell she spots the creature in the bushes. Pressing a hand against Bellatrix's elbow, they watch as a small doe steps out from the under the bush. A baby trundling afterwards, they both stop staring at the witches.

Turning, Bellatrix resumes their walk forcing Hermione to follow and leave the animals to watch their retreat. Shivering, Hermione glances back to the animals to find them gone, she doesn't feel safe in this forest.

A mist swirls beneath their feet, growing thicker clinging to their ankles stepping with them. It feels unnatural, she fails to loosen the grip on her wand. She focuses on the ground, on the trail processing the conversation. Watching the mist swirl tantalising as it blows away with each step, she doesn't notice Bellatrix who is no longer walking.

"Hermione." The voice startles her, she loses focus.

Any rational thought flies from her mind, her heart drops with a heavy thud failing to beat beneath her chest. Turning, she watches the figure move slowly through the forest towards her, the cane digging into the mud. The smell of cakes, the soft scent of lavender takes her back to her child hood. It fills a missing hole, the gap of a lost love one.

"My little sprout." The voice is warm coaxing.

"Nana," Hermione whispers, her feet give way and she falls to her knees.

"Baby girl," Nana replies stepping from the gloom, the wrinkles creasing around her eyes.

It's not possible, her nana is dead, buried she attended the service. She placed a kiss on her nana's cold forehead, watched her disappear to be cremated. Her urn sits on her mother's mantel piece, but here she is. Standing in the flesh wearing her favourite green cardigan, her tights and black skirt, a tender smile on her face.

"My you have grown."

Then again anything is possible with magic, is it possible that she has her nana standing in front of her. Whispering the same old sweet names, with the same sweet smile and warming look. The promise of adventure in such deep brown eyes and the reassurance she will let nothing happen to Hermione.

"How?" Hermione breathes, not believing what her eyes are telling her.

"My love, I have so much to tell you," Nana replies, clutching her cane as she steps forward. "I have kept so much from you."

Leaning forward Hermione wants desperately to clutch the outstretched hand, to let her nana explain all. To tell her everything, to explain who they are to understand why so many secrets. _Don't take it._

The voice startles her, making her loose balance. She stumbles forward on to her knees, hands digging into the bark. Watching her hands disappear through the mist, her mind flying back to Bellatrix grabbing her in the middle of a fight. Stealing her away from her family, and the tainted blood. She rises to her feet staring at the mud on her hands, feeling guilty in the warm gaze.

How could she take the hand when her own are tainted, she is a threat to her family? To her nana, anyone she loves. _Stay away._ The voice is low it growls deep inside her the hair on her neck stands up, making her shiver.

"Baby girl?" The voice gentle, the hand reaching out further.

It fills her with warmth hearing the voice, so many days spent in the arms of her nana. Watching movies, running through the garden and reading. Being tucked into her bed, baking and waiting for the weekend to spend time with her nana. Till the last weekend, when it was their last and she waited. Waited until ten at night, for her grandmother to appear on their doorstep, except she never turned up. Her mother carried her to bed when she fell asleep at the window. The next few days they spent worried, wondering where nana had got to until the news reached them. Her nana was no more, she had died.

Would it be so bad though to take the hand, to learn everything to be embraced once more? Her hands itch to be comforted to make this nightmare go away.

A hand curls around her waist, yanking her backwards into another warm body, except the arms are not comforting they are strong. Unbreakable, unreachable and so resilient, they could belong to only one witch. A witch who has spent most her time snatching Hermione from situations, to place her in dangerous scenarios.

"It's not real," Bellatrix's voice is rough, broken. "Whoever your seeing they're not real."

They look very real, from the dimples to the wrinkles on her nana's face she looks so very real. Never the less, the heartache still remains her nana's funeral. Her passing, that feels real, the pain still lingers and she knows Bellatrix is speaking the truth. This person, this creature is not her nana, no matter how much she wishes it to be.

Forcing herself to look away, Hermione turns to the frantic witch pulling her backwards further up the path away from her nana.

Tears.

Bellatrix has tears, her face is red from crying, hair a mess from the damp of the tears. She looks ragged, almost another witch entirely hands desperately clutching Hermione's jacket.

"What happened?" Hermione asks, unable to keep the shock from her voice.

"Nothing," Bellatrix replies eyes darting back to the forest. "We just need to move now. As in right fucking now."

The urgency compels her to take one last look at her nana, before turning following Bellatrix who has yet to release Hermione's arm. Pulling the younger witch behind her, rushing her to the exit. What were they running from? What was impersonating her nana? If she saw her nana, then who did Bellatrix see?

A guttural scream rips through the forest, sending chills down Hermione's spine. Pausing both witches stare back the way they've come. Figures rushing through the forest, creatures rushing towards them, screaming.

"Run!" Bellatrix orders.

Feet pounding along the muddy ground, she follows Bellatrix, ducking beneath branches. The screaming grows louder, closer her heart beats uncontrollably. They are not human. The thought propels her even more, her legs burn from the running. The breath caught in her chest, she pants, clutching her wand, listening to the thundering feet.

Bellatrix stops without warning, Hermione breaks, slipping on mud she slides across the clearing. A sharp hand snatching her back stopping her from crashing into the bushes into the white glowing eyes.

Panting, her back pressed against Bellatrix's back, she clutches her wand. Hand sweating, she runs the wood between her fingers. They're surrounded, creatures, moving through the forest towards them, circling them.

"Don't let down your guard," Bellatrix warns.

"What are they?"

"I don't know and I don't intend to find out."

No, Hermione doesn't wish to find out either, not recognising any of the creatures. Perhaps they were once human? Maybe ones who have failed the trials abandoned left behind and mutated into something else entirely. Teeth gleam, long claws dig into the mud, hidden beneath the mist.

They advance with fury, teeth snapping, long sharp claws that cut through flesh. She reacts on instinct, back to back they repel the attacks. Blue, red leave wands striking the endless bodies. White eyes gleam, breath ghosts across her cheek, her elbow connects with bone.

Screeching, endless screaming, the stuff of nightmares. A talon slashes across her chest, red drips the taste of iron in her mouth. Sweat it drips endlessly, her hand numb from spells, she feels blisters grow on her palm.

Tiredness grows, clutching at her slowing her movements, making her a bigger target. She repels another, but the spell is not as strong as the ones before. The creature rises back to its feet, tasting blood in the air. She feels the recent mark on her chest the biting sting, how long can she remain standing. When endless creatures are rushing towards them, never stopping.

A hand pulls her down, Bellatrix forcing her downwards until she collapses on her knees. Confused she struggles to cast a spell, terrified as a creature launches at her, talons outstretched. They crash into an invisible barrier repelled backwards, Bellatrix's has cast a charm.

"Down." Bellatrix orders, eyes pitch black.

Bellatrix wields her wand as though conducting a symphony with such elegance and pose. The spells snap, shooting free from the wand they cut through the air. Cracking with intensity, the ground blackening, Hermione has never seen magic like it. The hairs on her arm stand on end, as dirt kicks across the ground. Striking endlessly against the creatures, stealing cries of pain and fury.

The sky darkens, the mist swirls away, the spell grow intensity, with a retched noise and grinding power. They lash like whips stunning or killing the targets, burning the ground and tearing the air apart. It becomes too much, eyes weeping Hermione covers her face the magic scathing the earth around her she remains cowed at Bellatrix's feet.

A stillness falls, leaving her breathless on the ground, bark cutting into her jacket. Swallowing, she squints, reassured to find them creatures have gone. Rising slowly to her feet, she is conscious of her every move, the soft crushing of the ground beneath her feet. Her heart pounding, the beast raging, she clutches her wand watching the trees wondering if they are truly alone.

Glancing, she finds Bellatrix watching the forest, waiting, a sentinel on duty, waiting for the attack. The crooked wand smoking, the ground torn apart. It's a war zone, bodies litter the ground, blood, smoke and magic it lingers like an omen.

"Bellat…" A wand flicks, black eyes burn into her own, the tip of the wand pressed against her neck.

Swallowing, Hermione raises her arms, petrified, she has never seen Bellatrix like this before. The pupil blown, so large, it stalks Hermione like prey. Shaking, Hermione gently presses her hand against the wand arm.

"It's me, Hermione." Hermione rasps.

The wand remains, no recognition, no emotion, Bellatrix regards her with cold indifference. She forces a reassuring smile, hoping to disarm the witch, to calm her down.

"Bellatrix," Hermione whispers, is the witch going to kill her? "They've gone."

Nothing.

Just black depths. A slight twitch of the mouth, the hand snaps, the wand jolting. Flinching, Hermione waits for the curse, for the end. Nothing.

Slowly, she opens her eyes to find Bellatrix moving away, once more studying the forest. Releasing a breath, Hermione tries to ignore the shake in her limbs. Never has Bellatrix terrified her as much as that moment.

"We should go before they come back," Bellatrix announces, turning to Hermione once more.

Eyes back to normal, Bellatrix seems almost indifferent to the altercation. Motioning for Hermione to follow, they head further along, to where the creatures tried to keep them away. Past skeletons, strange cries in the distance and the smell of rotting flesh. They reach the portal, hidden in the thickness of the trees.

An arm grabs Hermione, fear taking over Bellatrix's face, following her line of vision Hermione finds her nana watching her and another. Someone she doesn't recognise, someone impersonating Bellatrix's past. To Hermione nothing but a black shape, a creature enticing them back to the forest to death.

"Sprout?" Her nana calls.

Shaking her head, Hermione pushes both her hand and Bellatrix's against the portal. The strong tug it pulls them from the haunted forest, spiralling through to the next trial. They land, feet squelching in a puddle. The rain pouring down, they duck into the shelter of a building's doorway standing in a small fishing village.

Wiping her eyes, Bellatrix curses the rain, but Hermione knows the witch was crying. The creature whatever it may be impersonated someone close to Bellatrix. Someone who was able to make the witch cry.

"Hey!" A voice calls, startling them both from their thoughts. "Over here."

Blinking, Hermione stares at the man waving at them to follow him into a large warehouse, sharing an incredulous look with Bellatrix. He shouts at them once more, ushering them both to follow. With a shrug, Bellatrix leads the way, _what's the worst that can happen?_ Hermione can think of several things that could go wrong.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/n:** I hope you all are well, thank you for all your support during the move and settling down period. It is greatly appreciated. My laptop keeps playing up mind, so fingers crossed it doesn't crash on me. If I go dark for a bit my laptop has died and I don't have the money at the moment to replace it. But I'm a bit of whiz so far I've been able to fix it. Fingers crossed. If it does crash after this chapter you will all kill me because of the cliff hanger! Oh boy.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 **CHAPTER WARNING:** Self Harm.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen**

 **Reality is Subjective**

" _Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."_ _  
_ _―_ _ **Albert Einstein**_

Deep breathes.

Inhale.

Feel the air enter and move freely through the body. Feel your chest inflate, hold your hand there, hold the breath. Hold it. Gently release the breath feel it move through the body as you exhale taking away all the problems.

Do you feel it?

Feel the breath moving, escaping through parted lips taking all the worries with it. Let it take away stress, take away all the uncertainties. Focus now. Focus on breathing.

Do you feel it?

Now imagine, imagine your elsewhere, keep your eyes closed. Focus on the breathing, focus on those deep breathes, feel the air enter your lungs. Feel your chest expand, where are you now?

Open your eyes, tell me what you see?

A large garden, a field? Good. Are you safe there?

Can you feel the breeze moving through the trees, feel it rustle your hair? All you can hear is the soft whisperings of spring, a joy to be hold, nothing else. Can you focus on that? Focus on the gentle breeze, the smell of freshly cut grass. Deep breathes, take it all in. Let the stress roll off your shoulders, let it leave you.

Do you feel it?

Do you feel it?

She feels it, the gentle breeze it brushes against her skin, tantalising in it's touch it caresses her, a gentleness. She feels every inch of it, feels wrapped in the smell of grass, sees nothing but freedom. Sees endless stretches of the field. Her garden, her parent's house, she takes a deep breath.

As the swallows dance above her, swirling in their beautiful displays, they move across the dying light. She itches for the evening, where she can see but the world remains in darkness. Where she can move freely through the shadows, never seeing the judging eyes. She is everything the world fears bumping into, her hand itches for her friend.

Focus now, focus on the deep breathes. In and out.

She winces, a shrill scream it breaks the air, disturbs her peace, the grass is no longer green. Crystallised with frost, a coldness despite the warm sun. Despite her layers, she never feels warm. Her arms, they ache her wrists sting.

Deep breathes, in and out. Focus on my voice. Tell me what you can feel? Coldness? No, focus on the warmth of the sun. The chirping of the birds, breathing in and out.

She tries to focus, but the birds are swirling endlessly, stuck on repeat. The distant fields are no longer fresh green, they seem rotten. The grass has died, the clouds have darkened and the chill has set.

"Wasting your time," The words they break her breathing, breaks her concentration. "She's fucked in the head doc, she's probably dreaming of killing you."

She wishes she was, was dipping her dagger into flesh, ripping the beating heart from the chest. What would the dear doctor say then? Would he be taking deep breathes then?

"Thank you for your advice Mr Black, but I prefer you to remain quiet at this stage."

There's no chance of that, her dear cousin has never learnt the valuable lesson of when to remain quiet. She sees him now in her dream, Sirius in his jail outfit, chains hanging from his small form. She smirks, it doesn't suit him. How the world thinks he is a killer is beyond her, don't they know her dear cousin is too soft. Too weak to kill. He never was taught the lessons on how to engage in a duel. Such a shame a waste of talent.

"Just saying, the Dementors have fucked my dear cousin up, she's not leaving here unscathed."

Are any of them? She asks herself the question, because the walls of her cell no longer reply, the Dementors have drained her from happiness. She only has a few memories, buried deep, she uses all her magic she has to repress the thoughts. She cannot lose them. If she does, she will never remember.

"Bellatrix?"

She twitches, the voice is like warm honey, not belonging to any at Azkaban, not belonging to Sirius. Nor her dear Doctor, who visits every month, she supposes his hoping for a confession. She never did confess to the Longbottom's, they are desperate to know. She appreciates the visit, it means the Dementors leave her alone for a few hours. She gets to retreat into her mind, to escape the chaos of Azkaban from the screaming.

Because that's all it is, screaming inmates, begging to be released, the smell of faeces. The stench of rotting flesh, the sickening smell of seaweed. It clings to her lungs, it suffocates her when she sleeps. The crashing waves, the water ruins her cell. Her bedding always damp, mould it crawls around her bowl, it clings to her glass. The dotted blackness that lives on her mattress. Bed lice, they are the only warm bloodied creatures here, looking for flesh.

Her chains they rattle, always clinking as she drags them across the ragged rocky floor. She could hang herself. She could wrap them around her neck, pull it tight suffocate herself. Anything, anything to escape Azkaban. The scars on her wrists and legs no longer sting, her nails no longer bring feeling. The red drips of liquid bring no feeling, she is numb.

Deep breathes, in and out…

Feel the air enter your lungs, the cut grass…

"Bellatrix, don't do this."

She blinks, what is she doing? She's just trapped in her cell, waiting for her Lord to come for them. Because he will come for them, he never lets her down. Never.

"Bellatrix, listen to me."

Frowning, she turns from the smirking Sirius, she can imagine him leaning against the bars of his cell. Sneering at her, mocking her attempts of peace. Can imagine all the inmates, watching the good doctor, hoping to get their hands on him. To get their hands on his potions, to escape this world. She can see him, the prodigy from the wizarding world. Who went to train in the muggle world, to learn muggle medicine? Psychology, a laughing stock to all inmates nothing but a filthy blood traitor. Except, she can never admit she understands what he says. She has studied psychology a long time ago.

It's why the ministry sent him if they could break the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange, then perhaps they would grant him funding. Would help him break into the wizarding world to combine the two medicines. It's sad, she respects the fool, the mind is powerful, his wise to study it. It's just a shame they sent him to her because she cannot be saved.

"Bellatrix."

What is that insistent nagging? She focuses on the blur, the shoulder length hair, the urgent look in honey eyes. She didn't know they were hiring such youngsters. This girl shouldn't be here. Azkaban will destroy someone so pure, she would destroy someone so innocent. More importantly, why does she continue to nag?

Deep breathes, tell me what you see Bellatrix? Can you see the fields around you, yes? A girl? Your sister?

No, this girl does not belong to her family, she wouldn't survive. Her family would destroy her, everyone knows the Black's are fucked.

If not your sister then who?

Yes, who is this girl? Why is she interrupting Bella's peace? Why does she feel inclined to help the girl?

Focus now Bellatrix, on your breathing, we're making a break through.

Are they? They're just doing the same shit they do every four weeks, pretending to make headway but all he does is provide relief for her mentally. Her peace is shattering the girl has gone, Azkaban is returning with force, the reality is on course to return. She supposes she should feel bad. Feel bad for the good Doctor, he hopes to help others. All he needs is a confession for the Longbottom's, he just needs her to admit guilt. The only problem is, she's innocent, she never hurt Alice or her husband. But she's a Black and everyone knows the Black's are monsters.

 _~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~_

Catching her breath, she clutches her bleeding hand, she was foolish to try to get Bellatrix's attention. She needs a better plan of attack, she needs to think this through logically. Her hand shakes the wand clutched between red fingers, a gash it lines her side. What was she thinking?

"We need to leave." She ignores the words. "Hermione, we need to get out of here."

"We can't leave her." She cannot leave Bellatrix behind.

"It's too late for her."

She clenches her teeth, holding back the anger, it's not over for Bellatrix. Not until Hermione says it, when she decides it's time to call quits. She won't leave Bellatrix behind, not now.

Regarding her new companion, she curses her luck for receiving such a cowardly man. The one who called them to the warehouse, asking for help. To help catch something, the reason the town is empty. He volunteered to return to capture the creature at loose, thought they were reinforcements.

They tried to capture the creature, to contain it with magic, until it possessed Bellatrix. To Hermione's horror, she watched the creature sink into Bellatrix, to watch dark eyes glaze amber. For the crooked wand to turn on them, to try to kill them. Bellatrix's every movement controlled by this creature, with no escape.

It's not true she could leave any second through the doors as Eldro keeps reminding her, promising they could get reinforcements. She couldn't, if anyone learnt who Bellatrix was, they would take her back to Azkaban. Or worse end up dead trying to restrain her.

"We can't leave her," Hermione states firmly. "But I cannot force you to stay, go if you must."

Torn, Eldro studies the door he could make, he could leave. Leave her to tackle Bellatrix alone. He huffs reclining against the wall, waiting for the plan. She hasn't got one though, she tried to distract Bellatrix to get the creature to leave her, but nothing works.

The tiniest click of heel alerts her to Bellatrix, she drops ducking on her knees as the wall blasts apart. Bellatrix has become the hunter, or the creature has, hoping to kill them both. Eldro runs, slipping between boxes and disappearing into the warehouse.

Pushing from her hiding place she reflects a spell, a box exploding near her feet, she narrowly missies the debris. Her shield shakes at the force of another spell, she catches sight of stupefy before it crashes into her side, sending her hurtling backwards.

The box smashes on impact, leaving her sprawled on the ground, clutching loosely to her side. How did they get to this situation? Why did the creature choose Bellatrix out all of them? Was it merely for survival?

Pushing to her knees, she stares around dazed, her side aching. She cannot win against Bellatrix in a duel, she tried getting the upper hand, but the witch anticipates her every move. She feels trapped, useless, unable to discover a plan. For once in her life, she is without an idea on how to get out of this situation.

A hand curls in her hair, pulling her to her feet, forcing her backwards. She stares down the curved wand, wondering if this is it? Will she finally die by Bellatrix's hand?

"Bellatrix," Her voice is hoarse, the word whispered between chapped lips. "Bellatrix please."

The eyes remain glazed, the wand pointed, the sweat still drips down her back. Slowly, she raises her hands in surrender, she has tried attacking, perhaps begging is a suitable role.

"Please, I just want my friend back."

It's the truth, she just wants to take Bellatrix and leave this place, to escape. An eye twitches, the only acknowledgement, the only reflection of emotion. She's not sure what is the trials and what isn't. All she knows is she wants to cry, to curl up and sleep.

"Please, tell me what you want."

"Judgement." The word is hissed between carefully crafted lips.

The wand is moving, aiming, this is it.

"Bellatrix, please. I need you to fight this. Don't do this."

A flash, red sears her irises, she flinches. A blast blows apart a box next to her, turning the items to ash. Bellatrix's hand shaking, the wand pointed to the side, sweat on the dark witch's forehead. A fight between the creature and the witch. Ducking beneath the arm, Hermione darts for safety, zig zagging between boxes.

She slides behind a wall, listening to the destruction. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath, what did the creature mean by judgement?

"Psst."

Turning, Hermione spots Eldro hidden in the shadows, hopping over a crate, Hermione slides down into the hiding place. She winces at the smell of rank body odour, the heavy sweating from Eldro. Burying her face in her jacket she studies the man for the first time.

She runs through his story, why would they send one person to get this creature. A wizard with no wand, a coward none the less. The thought confuses her, the same as the creature nothing here makes sense.

"I have an idea." The words leave her lips almost like a growl.

She frowns internally, she doesn't have an idea, well not a good one. Why did she say that?

"Follow me, we're getting out of here." She promises, her lips disobeying her.

 _Trust me._ The growl vibrates through out her body, sending a shiver through her body. The picture of the plan on repeat in her mind. She doesn't like this, doesn't like how this plan might play out. She doesn't trust the beast inside, but neither can she object to the idea proposed.

She climbs from hiding, Eldro following close behind. She can smell the fear on him, hear his every shaking step, his not scared of dying. Something else scares him, this creature terrifies him, why? _A coward, a wolf in sheep's clothing._

He doesn't look much like a wolf, but she supposes that's the point, he enticed them in. Begged for their help, lured them to their doom. Allowed Bellatrix to be possessed, she just needs to understand why.

"The exit is there," Hermione states calmly, crouching behind cover. "I will distract Bellatrix, get the door and we'll leave."

"Together?" Eldro asks.

Again, the question confuses her, why is he insistent on leaving with her? Why must she leave? She forces a nod, turning to the dark witch prowling in the area.

"Hey!" she shouts moving from cover, she throws a spell gaining the attention of Bellatrix.

If this doesn't work, they are dead. _It'll work._ She's not sure how much faith she has in a wolf, she appreciates the company none the less. Bellatrix is already stalking towards them, wand at the ready, lips moving, ready to strike.

Her wand moves on its own accord, turning to Eldro, striking the man in the back stunning him. He collapses in a heap, she's quick to immobilise him, to prevent him from rising to his feet. Stunned to find Bellatrix not attacking, merely stalking closer.

"I don't understand," Hermione states keeping her wand trained on Bellatrix. "But you want him, I want her back. Do we have a deal?"

"You bitch," Eldro gasps. "You cannot do this."

"Judgement," Bellatrix repeats coming to stand a few feet away.

"It'll kill me, you cannot do this," Eldro begs.

"What are you?" Hermione demands from the creature.

"Judgement," Bellatrix replies her voice void of any emotion. "I am judgement. Eldro was charged with genocide, I am his judgement."

"Genocide?" Hermione repeats.

"The people here were nice people, he killed them. All of them, the children, the elderly, the rescuers. I was charged with his judgement, to control him, to keep him here. I see all memories I know innocence and I know guilt. Trapped forever in the place he destroyed. To visit the memories, I am judgement. He will forever remain haunted by his crimes. Never able to leave this town."

"Then why take Bellatrix?"

"His sentence was interrupted by others, he managed to break free, killed them. By leaving with him, you would forfeit your life so he could walk free once more. I am an entity, I provide judgement. I sensed the sins of Mrs Lestrange, her strength, it was survival."

"You judged Bellatrix?" Hermione asks unsure.

"Yes."

"And if judge to be a criminal?"

"I cannot posses two."

"So?"

"I will end the life of those judged guilty."

Swallowing, Hermione grips her wand, Bellatrix is going to die. It's going to kill Bellatrix to take control of Eldro. She runs through all the spells she can think of nothing comes to mind for this situation.

"I have judged Bellatrix on past crimes."

"Please," Hermione begs, she cannot lose Bellatrix now.

"Ha, serves you right." Eldro smirks.

"She's not a bad person," Hermione argues.

"She has been judged."

"Bellatrix isn't evil." Hermione pleads.

"Her judgement has passed. Bellatrix judgement is not guilty."

What? The words shock Hermione to the core, leaving her dumbstruck even as the creature seeps free from Bellatrix. The swirling mess leaving the Dark witch, floating free. Ignoring the creature, Hermione catches Bellatrix who falls to the ground. Clutching the witch, she checks for a pulse reassured at finding the gentle thumping beneath her fingers.

Resting her head against Bellatrix she watches the creature take possession of Eldro, trying to ignore the guilt. If what the creature says is true, then the man deserves it.

A cold hand grips her forearm startling Hermione as dark eyes flash alert. Jolting from Hermione's lap, Bellatrix stares around the warehouse.

"You're fine," Hermione promises. "Bellatrix it's moved on."

Nodding, Bellatrix rises to her feet, running a hand through her hair, eyes wild. Rising to her own feet, Hermione checks the witch for any sign of injury. Surprised as the hand the cold hand once more grabs her arm dragging her towards the exit.

"We don't need to rush." Hermione protests.

"We're leaving,"

Swallowing at the command, Hermione follows the witch towards the exit, sharing one last look at the warehouse. Wondering what fate is in store for Eldro. If it has rattled Bellatrix this much, then she wonders for the safety of Eldro. _He deserves it._

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

The fire cracks, spitting into the dark night disturbing the silence of the forest. She remains nestled under her sleeping bag, resting her head on her arm. She lies there watching Bellatrix drink her firewhiskey, near the end of the bottle.

After escaping the warehouse, they were quick to get to the next level, for Bellatrix to set up camp. Casting numerous charms to protect them, before pulling out a bottle of whiskey. Drinking herself to oblivion, filling Hermione's cup up whenever the witch has finished it.

She's not much a whiskey girl herself, the taste is bitter, makes her head fuzzy. Instead, she focuses on healing the numerous cuts and grazes gained in the last few levels. Her side still aches but the whiskey is doing a good job of numbing her feelings.

Staring into the fire, Bellatrix's frantic movements have slowed downed. Now a still statue lost in memory sipping her drink as she watches the fire. Sipping her own drink, Hermione regards the dark witch.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asks breaking their silence.

"What do you think?" Bellatrix snaps in reply.

"No?"

"Of course, I'm not." Bellatrix slurs eyes struggling to focus. "Fucking thing was in my head. Got past my defences, my magic. Do you have any idea what that's like? No one, no one has ever got in my head. No one."

Hermione's heart stops at the silently whispered no one, as though Bellatrix is struggling to understand herself what has happened. Perhaps it's not ideal to drink this problem away, but Hermione is in no position to tell the witch to stop.

"It's gone now." Hermione reminds gently.

"Doesn't mean I can't still feel it." Bellatrix hisses taking a large swig of her drink. "Can still feel it there."

Nodding, Hermione falls silent, what can she say? Apologise? Say she understands? She decides to drink her whiskey, leaving Bellatrix to drink away her misery.

They remain in silence for a few hours, Hermione browsing through a book until she rolls on to her back. Staring at the stars above, watching them. Picking out constellations.

"It shouldn't be this hard," Bellatrix comments poking the fire with a stick. "None of this should be this hard."

Remaining silent, Hermione glances to the witch wondering if she should say anything. Aware Bellatrix is merely speaking her thoughts allowed.

"I don't know why I just thought this would be easier." Bellatrix continues swirling the last droplets of her whiskey.

"Nothing worth while is easy."

"True that," Bellatrix replies with a crooked grin. She's plastered, Hermione thinks to herself. "I just thought I've fucked up enough, I gave my own fucking daughter away. To protect her, I watched her grow up through bars, she doesn't even know who I am to her. Probably a good thing, mind. I've sacrificed over and over again, risked everything for my family. I went to Azkaban for fuck's sake, for a crime I didn't even fucking commit."

Smash, the bottle collides with a tree. Bellatrix left panting, glaring at the fire. Speechless, Hermione watches the dark witch, waiting with bated breath for her next words.

"They sent a doctor you know, hoping to get me to admit to the crime. For years they waited, I don't know a fucking thing about that night. I wasn't even there. I was with my little girl. The Dark Lord had fallen, I was free I could be her mother again." Scoffing, Bellatrix reaches into her bag drawing out another drink. "Who am I kidding? It was never going to happen."

"You were with your daughter?" Hermione asks carefully terrified of Bellatrix stopping the conversation.

"My girl, such a cheeky smile, has my hair, I suppose it's why she changed it when she got older." Bellatrix smiles struggling to unscrew the lid of the second bottle. "Didn't want to look like me, I suppose. Scared of giving the wrong impression, doesn't she know I'm the good one? Okay, I'm no saint, slightly unhinged, great in bed but otherwise, I'm not the fucking monster. I'm not."

"What's her name?" Hermione dares breath the question.

"Stupid fucking name," Bellatrix comments with a tiny smile. "My mother named her, of course, she did. She was such a beautiful baby, I gave her to my mother. Take her to safety, keep her safe. I just didn't realise it wasn't safe."

"Want me to open that?" Hermione asks feeling guilty for getting the witch drunk, but she opens the drink. "Her name?"

"Do you think she'll ever know the truth without hating me?" Bellatrix asks holding the open bottle. "I didn't do the crimes. I served the time, I served my Lord, but I didn't hurt Alice or Frank."

 _Alice or Frank?_ Bellatrix is on a first name basis with the Longbottom's? Was that ever known?

"I think there's a chance for anyone, I believe you."

"You're an idiot." Bellatrix slurs with a crooked grin. "That's what this was all for I suppose. I just wanted my girl, I wanted her to know the truth. To understand that I'm not that bad. That she's my baby, I only gave her up because it was the safest thing to do. I came back though, I came back for her when he fell. But when I saw her that night, I just couldn't do it, I was scared. Scared she'd hate me, reject me. I was scared so I grabbed you because it didn't matter if you hated me."

"I don't hate you," Hermione replies deciding to take the drink from Bellatrix.

"She will, she already does."

"People's minds can be changed."

"Not with the fucking evil witch whispering in her ear. Why would you call a baby that anyway? Who looks at a baby and thinks that's the name?"

"What name?"

"Nymphadora."

"Tonks?" Hermione whispers.

"She's not a Tonks, she's a Black. Born Nymphadora Black, that's what's on her certificate, I had her before I married. Andromeda is unable to have children, she knew that from a young age. Nymphadora is mine and mine alone."

* * *

 **A/n:** So hands up, who guessed it correctly? Be honest. Anyway, so much more to come, just the tip of the iceberg.

Thank you to everyone who is following this story, your reviews never cease to amaze me. Thank you.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/n:** Apologies about the delay, I lost my ferret, my little boy so been devastated. Also health wise I'm struggling at the moment, so if I go a bit longer without posting it is just health issues and struggling to find time to write. Please have a little patience and I will get the chapters to you, your support means the world to me. Thank you.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 **CHAPTER WARNING:** Death, violence.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen**

 _ **A Mother's Sacrifice**_

 _There's just something about you_

 _Appease the addict in me_

 _I promised you that I'd hurt you_

 _You are my God_

 _You are my soul_

 _You're my savior_

 _In a devil's robe_

 _And I can't exist without you_

 _I can't exist without you_

 _(In This Moment - Bones)_

" _I find the defendant not guilty."_

 _She half expected a cheer somewhere from the crowd or a jeer, not this eerie silence that has descended. With one final swish of their wand, the chains fall away from scarred wrists freeing them. Clearing them from any wrong doing._

 _It's a joy that fills her, a smile that takes hold of her lips as she watches Bellatrix rise to her feet. Still the elegant witch despite the prison robes. She rushes to her own feet as Bellatrix descends form the box, away from the shocked faces._

 _Unable to bear the silence, Hermione slips from the chamber, into the corridor waiting eagerly to greet Bellatrix. To congratulate her, to celebrate both their victories. If it wasn't for Hermione, Bellatrix would still be chained like an animal. The years searching for proof, the talking between bars, visiting hell. The endless letters, Bellatrix's unyielding support._

" _Happy?" The voice startles her, turning to face the red-faced Neville._

" _Neville, I am sorry."_

" _No, you're not, you freed that monster Hermione, my friend and you let her walk free." Neville spits, she has never seen anger radiate from him before._

 _Unsettled, she steps back, clutching her wand, watching the clenching fists. Neville dressed in a suit that seems too big for him, with red cheeks and tear stains. She ignored his letters, focussed only on one thing. Freeing Bellatrix._

" _How could you? We were friends?" Neville whispers so brokenly, his parent's torturer walking free. "My parents… you never stopped to think about those though, did you?"_

" _She's innocent, she doesn't deserve to rot."_

" _My parents do?"_

" _That's not what I meant," Hermione replies guilt taking hold._

" _No? Course not, your just her little dog, waiting for its master to return. Look at you, waiting for your reward? Guess what Hermione, she doesn't care for you, you're just a means to an end."_

" _Neville, please the facts…"_

" _Are not justice." Neville snaps._

 _Shaking his head, he turns away, joining the crowd exiting the chamber. Finally, silence has given way to shouting, screaming from the streets. Bad news travels fast. The click of shoes makes her turn, she smiles at finding Bellatrix standing behind her. Standing tall back in her normal clothes, with her sister who appears so very out of place in such a common corridor._

" _Bellatrix," Hermione sighs, they have so much to discuss. "Congratulations."_

" _Well, couldn't have done it without you, pet," Bellatrix replies, her voice like honey._

 _All her worries erase at the pet name, Bellatrix is still Bellatrix, freedom has not changed her. Not the evil witch people expect. If only they can just show the world, well organised interviews, a few charity events they could change public perception._

" _We need to work on your public image," Hermione states unable to rid her smile._

" _Yes, Cissy said you sent her some ideas."_

" _That's right, we should get to work straight away."_

" _Umm," Bellatrix nods glancing to her sister. "Give me your hand."_

 _She obeys without thought, without any conscious effort, because no one refuses Bellatrix anything. Especially when her crooked wand is in such easy reach. When the law now no longer sees her as a villain but a victim. Because that's the story she told the world, the poor Black sisters spun so eloquently._

 _A weight forces her hand down, turning her smile into a frown as she regards the bag in her palm. She doesn't understand the significance of this bag of coins?_

" _What is this?"_

" _Money." Cissy replies indifferently. "for your services."_

" _I'm sorry?" She's confused, she didn't ask for any money._

" _You'll find it more than enough pet," Bellatrix replies a smirk covering her lips, it descends with the speed of a black cloud._

" _I didn't…"_

" _I know, but I have no use of you anymore."_

 _The words strike straight to the heart, she feels the wound trickle, blood it drips slowly. Feels the cracks growing, her heart splintering, her life. Her friends, everything put on the line to prove this witch is innocent all for what? Money?_

" _Your future…"_

" _Is secure, whether the people like me or not it is little consequence. Cissy has your ideas to change public perception should I choose to, now you are no longer needed."_

" _We thank you for your services," Cissy answers sliding gloves over her perfect manicured hands._

 _They breeze past as though turning into a distant memory, a distant thought already forgotten. All the hours, the days, the sleepless nights. The trials, the abuse, the hate and the loss of friends all for money._

" _Bellatrix," She hates the waiver in her voice. "Just like that?"_

" _What did you expect?" Bellatrix chuckles, cold eyes sweeping over Hermione._

" _We're friends."_

" _Please, you're just a means to an end. Use the money have a holiday, do something with your pitiful life, our transaction is finished."_

" _Everything I've done for you and you treat me like this…"_

" _Everything? Filth, I think you misunderstood. You're just a mangy beast, your job is done, now be a good girl and stay."_

 _Stunned, she watches Bellatrix walk away disappearing into the crowd of lights flashing. The cheering and the cursing from the crowd. The biggest trial in history and she won it. Pocketing the money, she hates the way it weighs her down, moving towards the exit._

 _Past the flashing of cameras, only her parent's house awaits her. Cold and empty, no longer welcome at the home of the Weasley's. Harry no longer speaks to her, she has no one. No one._

 _Something wet touches her cheek, she flinches, wiping her cheek grimacing at the saliva. Turning to the wizard who had spat on her, to the raging crowd._

" _There she is, the fucking bitch. She's the one who saved the demon from the kiss."_

 _She flinches as something narrowly misses her, the crowd booing her. It didn't matter, none of it mattered if Bellatrix was innocent, she is still the monster in the eyes of the public. Except now, Hermione was the biggest monster because she freed the demon from hell. All for money._

 _~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~_

Jolting awake, Hermione groans her body aches, something rough presses against her cheeks. Frowning, she pushes upwards confused to find herself face down on the hard ground, mud stuck to her face. In the distance she can see Bellatrix sprawled out on the ground, her drinking knocked her out in the early hours of the morning.

It doesn't explain Hermione's current position, metres away from their campsite, it's with dread she realises she's naked. Blushing, she looks down to her filthy body, shivering at the sight of blood across her abdomen. Did she turn?

Her wand is still strapped to her arm, Bellatrix's invention should Hermione turn, she will always have her wand when she turns back. With a flick she summons her clothes, shuffling towards the stream. She's quick to remove the blood from her chest, not her own she notices.

Shaking the leaves from her hair, she tries to hide the evidence to hide she turned in the night. Despite her efforts, she sees her reflection in the water, the shimmering face peering back at her with black bags under her eyes.

Once dressed, she shakily makes her way back to the campsite, wondering what made her turn. Did she hurt anyone? Or did it simply wish to go hunting for food, she hopes this is the case. Except her stomach is rumbling and she knows, can tell something has happened.

"You look like shit," The voice startles her making her jump. "Jumpy this morning, aren't we?"

She hates the way, Bellatrix's black eyes are now fully focussed on her, the casual greeting turning to a full inspection. Trailing Hermione's body, it won't take the witch long to realise that Hermione had changed. The smell of food draws her closer to the fire, she sinks with a sigh, a spark of pain in the base of her back. _What happened last night._

"Have you seen yourself?" Hermione quips her voice sore and raspy.

"Hmm, did you turn?" Bellatrix questions.

"No," Lying seems fruitless to Bellatrix. "Just went for a wash, can't handle my alcohol."

"Nasty bruise."

Frowning, Hermione glances down to her collarbone swallowing at the large bruise that is a startling black and blue. It almost seems to be spreading to her throat, what on earth happened last night?

"Fell over,"

"I don't know why you bother to lie, your shit at it," Bellatrix comments passing over food, eyes blazing in the fire.

"Do you remember last night?" Hermione asks, hoping to steer away from the conversation.

"Unfortunately, I do."

"Tonks…"

"No, not happening, I was drunk this isn't a fucking confession, you're not my priest."

"She deserves to know."

"HA!" Bellatrix cackles chocking on her beans. "DO you hear yourself? Deserve to know? In what world would that be a good idea?"

"She would want to know the truth."

"Would she? Would you? Tell me pet, if someone came up to you to tell you that cushy little life, your friends and everything you have would vanish because you're actually the daughter of a psychopath. That everything was a lie."

"Yes."

"Fuck off." Bellatrix hisses. "What will it take to keep your stupid mouth shut? Money?"

"What?"

"Name your price, more money you can even fit in your vault. A house, a mansion? Name your price."

"Price for what?"

"Your silence, you fucking dimwit."

The dream haunts her wakening, on repeat in her mind. Are people so easily brought? Is this how Bellatrix buys loyalty, it's no secret the witch is wealthy.

"I don't want money."

"Everyone wants money."

"No, I don't need your money. If you don't want her to know, it's not my place to tell her."

"I'm just meant to trust you?"

"Yes, I won't tell her. But you should."

"Not happening."

"I know your scared,"

"SCARED?" Bellatrix retorts furiously.

"Anyone would be, it would mean a change for both of you, but she's your daughter. Surely you want her to know the truth?"

"Then what filth?" Back to the insults, Hermione knows the next few moments will be very precarious. "We ride of into the sun set, I braid her hair? Fuck off with your whimsical dreams, this is the real world. Andy would slit my throat before I could even utter the truth. Should I manage to get past my bitch of a sister, I will then ruin her life."

"Why didn't you just tell the truth at the beginning? You wouldn't have gone to Azkaban."

"My Lord… I am loyal to his cause."

"You can't be both a mother and a lieutenant?"

"Her… No, it doesn't work like that, she's not Rod's."

Oh, oh… Bellatrix had an affair? Who with, who is Nymphs father?

"My family, my Lord, she would have never made it past her first birthday," Bellatrix answers stabbing her bacon. "If my Lord learnt of my blunder, of her birth…"

"Your worried for your life?"

"Not mine, hers. My Lord would not be foolish enough to engage me not in a duel. But she wouldn't survive against him, it's not just that though. She has a life; she has a choice. To marry whomever she wants, to love whomever she wants. To fight for whichever side she chooses, she can be an Auror, she doesn't have to walk through the streets in fear. To suffer abuse. My sister's betrayal was the right thing for Nymphadora. I am not a mother, nor am I a role model, she is safer with the life created for her."

Sacrifice, Bellatrix sacrificed everything to keep Nymphadora safe, to save her from her world. To protect her from the public, to give Nymph a chance at a normal life.

"You know, I once ashamed of my mother, she never finished her education. My Father an accomplished dentist, but my mother was nothing but a shopkeeper. She enrolled on to a course in her forties, I was younger I didn't understand. I was always taught; my education was important. So, I couldn't fathom why my mother was studying so late in life. Studying to become a nurse, when I was ten. She told me, with a smile. _I was young, foolish, I thought I had all the time in the world. I toured around the world, I went to parties, then I met your father. An inspiring dentist, who wanted to start his own firm. I put my own studies on hold, I worked all the hours of the day to help him open his own dentist. The accountant, the manager and receptionist. It paid off, we started hiring, then I had you. My own little girl, I had no time to study."_ Hermione smiles at the memory. "She sacrificed one of the most important principles of her life for those she loved."

"Lovely story." Bellatrix drawls. "What's your point?"

"I asked her why she replied, it's what a mother does. Sacrifice to make sure their children go without nothing. A mother's love." Hermione shrugs. "You say your not mother material, but you put our own needs aside for your daughter, risked your own life to keep her safe. Tell me you don't deserve the chance to tell her, even if she rejects you. You deserve the right to tell her the truth."

"Then what? Wait for my Lord to kill her? It's not that easy, she is the enemy, his enemy and therefore my enemy."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"Even in this ludicrous dream, I told her if my Lord knew. IF my husband found out, if Rod found out the truth, he would torture her, worse than that. He would spare no mercy, for fuck's sake. The Longbottom's look what he did to them if he found out, that she was mine. That his fears were true, that she is a Longbottom, not a Lestr…"

Bellatrix jaw locks, eyes wide her hand stills. Longbottom? The breath evaporates in Hermione's lungs, leaving Hermione breathless, too stunned to breath. Nymph is a Longbottom. Nymph and Neville are half brother and sister. Bellatrix had an affair with Neville's dad?

Darkness takes over, Bellatrix's already dark eyes blackening, swallowing, Hermione rises to her feet. She has seen this side of Bellatrix before in the heat of battle. Slowly, Bellatrix rises to her feet, wand in her hand.

"I can't let you have that information, pet. It's too dangerous."

The Lestrange brothers tortured the Longbottom's because they suspected Bellatrix was having an affair. That's why they were targeted not for the reason the courts tried to explain. Bellatrix was with her daughter oblivious. Their Lord dead, no one to control the Lestrange brothers.

"You were going to leave him." Hermione breathes. "Your husband."

"Yes." Bellatrix rasps. "My Lord was gone, I was free. I was going to leave with her and go, Rod got wind except, he thought I was running away with… He got the wrong one. Too many have died for this information, pet its nothing personal."

The spell narrowly avoids her, hitting the ground with a soft thud. Darting to the side Hermione narrowly avoids a second spell. Bellatrix casting the obliviate curse, trying to erase the conversation. She spares no thought, spinning on the spot, she watches Bellatrix hand reach for her, trying to stop her.

She lands heavily against the pavement, clasping the wall, she stares around the town. They passed through yesterday morning. Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione will allow Bellatrix time to calm down, to let the moment pass. She'll go back later when they both have time to process their thoughts.

Stepping to the side of the street, she lifts her hood, hiding her face from the public, away from wandering eyes. It would do no good for anyone to recognise her, not now. Carefully she casts a charm, hiding more from view.

Her magic it crackles, her wand vibrating in her hand, it feels heavy. Her magical core feels drained, much like her own body. Rubbing her neck, she slinks into the crowd wandering the streets, feeling in her pockets for loose change, she wonders what happened last night. Why did she turn? There was no full moon, they were safe. Yet, she turned and has bruises to show for it.

Helping herself to a sandwich she waits in line to pay. Her stomach still empty, she chooses a soft drink, can imagine her mother shaking her head. Ashamed at the choice of drink, at the sugar. But she needs something, something to wake herself up and she's not in the mood for coffee.

The cashier barely spares her two looks, for which she is grateful. Normally, a rude service would irritate her, but she is more than happy to blend in.

Bellatrix daughter is Tonks, Tonks is a not a Tonks but a Longbottom. Nymph is related to Neville; the idea is boggling. She doesn't realise she's been frozen staring at her drink until someone walks into her a muttered apology in passing.

Stepping aside she bites into her sandwich, choosing to wander the backstreets away from the wizards and witches rushing about their day. How would Nymph react to the news? How would anyone react to the news? It would be devastating, everything would change.

Throwing her rubbish away she leans against a wall sipping her drink staring at a rat scuttering across the ground. Watching it as it searches for food, before it vanishes into a pipe, its little legs scratching at the metal until it plops into the water of the drain.

"Good mornin'." A wizard greets standing a few feet from her, hands behind his back.

Pushing from the wall, Hermione feels the necks on her hairs go up, eyeing the stranger. Unnerved she notices another wizard walking towards them coming to a stop next to the first. A smile it emerges, lips slithering into a strange curve.

"Hello," Hermione greets. "Can I help you?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you could." The wizard smiles, retrieving a note book from his pocket. "I'm with the guard, I just have a few questions."

Uneasy, Hermione tries to force her body to relax, slipping her hands into her pockets, hoping for nonchalance. The smile grows on the wizard's face, bland brown eyes studying her posture. _Your shit at lying._ She almost wishes Bellatrix were here, the witches presence disguise or no is enough to scare anyone away.

"There was an incident last night in the neighbourhood, don't suppose you were aware of anything?"

"No, I've only just arrived."

"When was this?"

"Last night, quite late."

"AH, last night. I thought I didn't recognise you. What brings you to this town?"

"Travelling," Hermione answers jaw clenching.

"Alone?"

"No,"

"Sorry, where are my manners, Lieutenant Craven with the first Guard. My Sergeant Frandon."

"Is there anything else I can help with?"

"No, actually yes, just one more thing." Craven answer head tilting to the side. "That's a nasty bruise you have there, how did you get it?"

"Slipped in the shower," Hermione responds, tugging her jacket to cover the bruise. "Can I go?"

"Sure, just quickly. You didn't ask."

"Ask what?" Hermione questions, folding her arms.

"What the incident was, why?"

"It's not my business."

"Ah, a young lady was attacked about your age."

"That's horrible," Hermione replies on instinct. "I hope she's okay."

"Unfortunately, she didn't make it. Not your average attack actually, very strange."

"How so?"

"Just haven't had a case like this in a long time."

"Murder?"

"Could call it that, but she wasn't just murdered. She was ripped apart, by a werewolf."

Blood running cold, Hermione can only nod arms still folded she manages to hide her shaking. Was it her? Did she kill someone last night?

"Terrible." Hermione forces a reply.

Craven merely nods, gaze moving over her shoulder before moving back. If she blinked, she would have missed the action, but she sees it. Turning, she's shocked to find another Guard creeping up on her, few feet behind her.

"What?"

The question dies on her lips a painful electric shock shoots through her body. Crying out she falls to her knees, aware of the large pole jammed into the back of her knee. Sharp shooting pain rushing through her body, it's staggering.

"I think we have a few more questions," Craven states.

A hand reaches for her, the electricity still shooting through her body. A groan no a growl it rips from her throat. Anger it pulses burns replacing all the pain until she has numb bliss. Her arm lashes out connecting with the third wizard a grunt, the pain stops.

Panting, she points her wand at the two wizards, glancing back to the third. Surprised to find him flung across the street into a brick wall, electric shock pole forgotten on the ground.

Panting, she flees, random spells sparking from her wand, she apparates away. Landing with a thud in a church graveyard hidden behind a crumbling tomb. Breathing a sigh, she cradles the injured knee to her chest. Cursing herself for falling into their trap.

 _Did I kill someone?_ She cannot think about it right now; she needs to get back to Bellatrix and leave. Pushing to her feet, she pulls her hood taunt as she exits into the street, trying to get her bearings. She recognises a shop Bellatrix wanted to visit; she'll head back to Bellatrix they'll leave…

Frowning, she moves closer to a news vendor, staring at the front covers, the local news covering the murder from the night before. It's not that gains her attention, it's the main news. So, used to seeing her face plastered across the papers or Bellatrix's it's a shock. A shock to find another story as the main headline.

Picking up the paper, she flicks through, wondering if they're on the second page. She finds her picture, on the sixteenth page, not her name a number. She's become a number no longer a person but a number to the system.

"Moon tonight," A passer-by comments. "Do you think it'll strike again?"

"I don't know, but I've sent the kids to the grandparents. Filthy thing, I hope they catch it."

Swallowing, Hermione drops the paper back into its space, feeling numb she struggles to take her eyes from the front page. She jumps as an arm wraps around her shoulder, cradling like an embrace but threatening with one swift twist she would be dead. The familiar scent prevents her from retaliating, comforting weight on her shoulder as Bellatrix rests her chin.

"Gotcha." Bellatrix hisses, humour lacing her anger. "What's wrong?"

"They've forgotten us," Hermione replies.

"Of course, nothing fickler than the public. We're old news." Bellatrix comments glancing at the papers. "Just numbers now."

A whistle interrupts their reunion, turning she groans at finding Craven standing in front of them. He has reinforcements this time, but she has Bellatrix.

"We didn't finish our chat," Craven says advancing.

"You've been making friends?" Bellatrix asks stepping from Hermione squaring up with Craven.

"I think we should take this to the tower," Craven answers pausing in front of Bellatrix. "This your 'travelling' companion?"

"I didn't kill that girl." Hermione retaliates.

"But you are cursed," Craven states.

"I see it as a gift." Bellatrix interrupts.

"You vouch for this mongrel?" Craven demands.

"She is mine," Bellatrix answers with a shrug.

"Good, then you'll come too."

There's no time to react Bellatrix is already releasing curses on the nearest guards stealing cries of pains. Retrieving her own wand, Hermione protects the witch from a spell.

Ping.

She stumbles, eyes fuzzy, sharp pain in her neck, she clutches her skin. Frowning, she plucks the feathered object staring at the dart. Panting, she glances to Craven to the smirking face. Woozy, her leg gives out as she collapses into the news stand, the poison leaking through her system. Through blurred eyes, she watches Bellatrix, wants to warn the witch.

Except, her tongue is numb, and the witch isn't counting on the electric poles. Wincing, Hermione watches the first wizard receive a bloody nose, but Bellatrix isn't able to withstand the second attack.

Everything goes white.

"Ah, your awake."

Groggily, for the second time that day she awakes face down on the ground, wincing at the concrete. She pushes groggily to her knees head pulsing. She finds Bellatrix a few feet away, sitting on a bed, head in her hand looking bored.

Turning, Hermione finds Craven sneering through iron bars, watching them both. Frowning, Hermione pushes to her feet, the last few hours catching up with her. Where were they?

"You didn't kill that girl?" Craven questions.

"No," Hermione mumbles rubbing her neck.

"We'll find out," Craven replies. "If there's another body in the morning, then I know it's not you."

"What? Your locking us up?" Hermione demands.

"Obviously," Bellatrix drawls.

"It's a full moon tonight," Hermione argues panic it floods her system eyes wide she stares at Bellatrix, ignoring Craven as he talks.

She's going to turn again tonight, there's no chains, Bellatrix has no weapon and no where to run too. Both witches trapped in this jail, the realisation dawns on Bellatrix, a flash of concern it covers her face but just as quickly it vanishes. Bellatrix never revealing her inner thoughts, she merely reclines on the bed, nonchalant.

"All the opportunity prove it wasn't you. If your friend survives the night, I know its not you, if she dies, you die in the morning." Craven grins at her through the rusty iron bars, his white teeth glinting.

The beast will be released tonight, it's with terror Hermione collapses to her knees, knowledge that tonight, she will be responsible for killing Bellatrix Lestrange.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/n** : So, been a while sorry about that. Obviously as you are aware Curfew is up and it has brought back a mojo. I am also house bound due to Covid-19 so bored and lots of time on my hands. I finally managed to find time for this beauty. An extra long chapter too as a peace offering. Anyway enjoy won't make any promises when the next chapter for this will follow if I have anyone still here reading that is. In the mean time please stay safe.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 **CHAPTER WARNING:** Mentions of rape and torture, self harm. Blood and swearing.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 _ **Chapter Eighteen**_

 ** _Revelations_**

" _How hurtful it can be to deny one's true self and live a life of lies just to appease others."_

― _June Ahern_

Little beads of blood pave a path down the pale arm, it would normally cause her glee. Would usually make her cackle maybe throw a joke in about how her blood is filthy. Now though, it makes her stomach churn, the action anything but entertaining. The action speaks of desperation, crazed eyes seeking some resolution.

Perhaps, trapped once more in a prison has made her vulnerable, she promised herself she would never be caught again. Not alive anyhow, a backup, poison to end her life. She will never step foot back in Azkaban, would never see those creatures again. Dark Lord or no Dark Lord, she would kill herself before allowing the chains to grace her wrists.

This is far from Azkaban, far from the rotting hell hole in the middle of the ocean. This prison is almost pleasant, she can deal with the sneers from the guards. She cannot deal with the desperation, the pain and the fear emanating from her mudblood. Her plucky mudblood, using anything to secure herself, to trap herself to prevent the monster from revealing itself.

Watching those brown depths filled with too much emotion, too much hope. How does one little thing carry so much emotion? So much hope, it confuses Bella, now filled with frustration. Desperation. The knowledge stored in muddies brain, too much some might argue. Not enough in Granger's case, Bella doubts the mudblood knowledge will ever be enough. She envies her passion. The thirst for answers. It reminds her of her old days, seeking another answer. Seeking knowledge, it led her down the wrong path.

Snorting, she knows the path was always set in stone, she was always meant to follow Tom. Always. The actions carried out in her Lord's name, her saviour's name, that's what she thought him. Back when he stood in her father's study, his calculating gaze. His overpowering presence. She worshipped him. Adores him.

 _Loves him._

His ideas, intelligence, sacrificed so much for him, everything for her Lord. Her child, her sanity, her body and still it was never enough. He needed more from her, always wanting more from her. Expected more from her, more than humanly possible. They all did, her family looking to her for strength, resolution. They always needed her, she obliged, how could she not? They were family, are family. It didn't matter if she lost the love of her life, didn't matter she lost out on the chance to become a mother. That her daughter would recoil in disgust at the idea of Bellatrix being her mother. Who wouldn't? Her daughter would expect her to change, to become an upstanding citizen, would never accept her crimes.

Her Lord, he expects her to be there at every turn. Even now, her mark burns, his demand to return, his disappointment at her actions. Even now she seeks the Moses for him, always. To return him to full power. If only Granger new the real reason they were here, she would leave. Using the barbed wire to cut her wrists instead of trying to use it secure herself.

Even now, as Bella watches from the only bed, their crude little bed supported by chains. Their one blanket, she watches Granger wind the barbed wire around her delicate wrist. Ignores the pain, the blood that trickles and splashes against the mould covered stones. The only thing Granger can use as some sort of restraint. Because she's terrified of turning, of becoming the monster underneath.

It strikes Bella even now, through sick fascination as the blood continues to drip and the smell of iron tints their small space. That Granger isn't doing this for herself, that she's not panicking because of the jailers currently laughing at her predicament. She doesn't fear death, because that's what awaits her if she turns tonight. Death. Regardless if Bella lives, they will slit Granger's throat. If she's lucky they won't rape her before so.

If Bella's lucky the werewolf will kill her, before the jailer's rape her too. Too many times she's been in this situation, usually, she is the jailer, leaving the Lestrange brothers, Greyback or others to guard their captives. Turned a blind eye to the screams, the shouts. Even in torture, rape sounded different. A distinctive scream, she can imagine what Rod would do to Granger. The dream still fresh in her mind could imagine the screams from Granger's lips.

Swallowing, she looks away from her plucky mudblood, because it hurts. Hurts to watch Granger defile her own body in the hopes to protect Bella. Wanting to protect the witch who kidnapped her? She worries about Granger's sanity, worries about her own.

 _No one…_

The thought trails off because she cannot allow it to manifest, for it to stir other questions. A dangerous hazard when trapped, when no longer walking. What did Granger call her the other day? A shark? Unable to stop swimming, fear of drowning. She supposes the mudblood isn't wrong, it terrifies Bella. The thoughts that swim out of focus, buried in her depths. Even now they stir, with every gasp of pain as Granger winds the wire tighter. Every deep breath, she hears it all, it echoes so loudly in their tight jail.

 _Stop!_

The urge to scream at the witch, well it's overwhelming. Bella can imagine it would have the opposite effect if anything she will scare the witch into hurting herself permanently.

 _Stop… For fuck sake Granger I'm not worth the effort._

IT's the startling truth, Bella isn't worth this much effort. Despite her bravado, despite the confidence, Bella knows her crimes, knows her secrets are enough to mean death. Only a painful death awaits her now. She just hopes she can change something along the way. This though, this painful torture subjected to by Granger. It's too much, she cannot stand the murmurs, the breathless gasp the tears in the eyes.

She should be gleeful. But her famous vindictive tongue remains trapped by clenched teeth.

 _Stop._

Not even her family, her lover, her Lord or her friends have tried this hard to save Bella. Only this plucky little mudblood, too scared to harm another. Too… caring to hurt another. Her plucky mudblood, her bloody clover wanting to save Bella. Save Bella from the creature within and yet it should be Bella saving Granger. Saving her from the creature within when did the tables turn? When did Granger become the hunter and Bella the measly prey?

Who are these filthy bastards who dare to laugh at her plucky mudblood? Who points and laugh, shout vile names? It stirs her monster and she's rising to her feet. Moving across the small jail towards her plucky mudblood.

"Stop, stop." Bella orders clutching Granger's free hand. "Fucksake, Granger stop."

"I can't…" Granger is practically vibrating, shaking with fear. "I'll kill you."

There it is, the universal truth, Granger too scared to kill Bella. Even now, after everything, Bella has subjected the witch too, even now Granger wants to protect Bella. _Stop._

She clutches the wrist tighter, cupping Granger's cheek with her free hand. Ignores the blood trickling across her clenched fingers, the warm liquid trailing down Bella's hand. Dripping to the ground, she presses her forehead against Granger's. Eyes screwed tight.

"Stop." Bella whispers. "Just stop."

"I… I."

"I know. I know." Bella murmurs can feel Granger's thundering heartbeat beneath her fingertips. "This won't help."

"I don't want to hurt you." It's a confession, a whisper of the truth.

 _Why? I'm not worth this._

"You won't." Bella promises, is being put out of her misery classed as hurting?

"I will, I'll turn and…"

"Hush."

Still shaking, Bella pulls the witch into her chest, resting her head on top of Grangers. Aware that the witch is slowly outgrowing her in height, that soon Granger will become taller. Slowly, she unravels the wire, ignores the wolf-whistling from the perverted jailers. Tries to ignore the squelch as the wire plucks Granger's raw skin.

"I'll get us out… Trust me."

She's going to kill them. All the jailer's and she won't make it quick. She'll just need a distraction and thankfully, Granger is halfway to making one.

 _~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~_

"Well that's just showing off," is the unamused comment.

Chuckling, Hermione turns to what has the dark witch distracted. Covering the tops of her eyes she squints smirking as goats jump alongside the mountain as though it is hopscotch. It's a sight she wishes she had her dad's camera for, something you only see in tv documentaries.

Hermione tries her best to ignore Bellatrix, who attempts to knock one of the goats off with a stone. The distance between them and the goats are a few miles and the stones drop down into the canyon below. They don't even hear them reach the bottom, it's how high they are. How terrifying high they are. Perhaps not the best time to inform Bellatrix of her fear of heights. Maybe she will never tell the dark witch, she doesn't need to give her any more ammunition to wind Hermione up.

Sighing, Bellatrix turns her boredom to a nearby spider trying to hit that instead with the stones. It's almost like trying to amuse a child, Hermione thinks to herself. Especially here in the dry landscape surrounded by mountains, rocks and nothing else.

Her mind still travels to Bellatrix's cunning behaviour however long ago it was, getting them out of the jail. Before Hermione turned, watching the witch fight was both terrifying and a marvel. An unarmed Bellatrix is perhaps more dangerous than an armed Bellatrix. It ended with blood despite Hermione's attempts to save the jailers.

"What day is this?" Bellatrix asks dumping the rest of the stones.

"Sixteen?"

"Thought it was seventeen?"

"Sixteen dawns, I swear," Hermione mutters, she's not sure.

There is nothing here, no sign of life except for the lizards, spiders and goats. No sign of another human being, other than Bellatrix who is questionable at the best of the times. Just rocks, upon rocks, blaring sun and silence. A reflective silence that even their footsteps and the falling of rocks become lost in. It's relaxing as well as daunting, they are nothing but dots in the landscape. It makes her feel so small among the mountains.

Their walking brings solitude, reflection and some banter. She vows never to take up hiking while wishing she could visit again. The sights breath-taking, the hidden waterfalls, the starry nights and beautiful sunsets. Even Bellatrix struggles to bring a dampener on their predicament.

Their rucksacks heavy, their backs aching, her ankles swollen. Bellatrix's feet rubbed raw, bleeding beneath the socks. The water supplies limited, they must search between their trek, for water. Rationing a must, their food dwindling to a few bars. It's dire, terrifying because here, magic doesn't work. Hermione had to learn from Bellatrix how to light a fire with flint. Work together to climb down the sides of mountains to reach any water supply. Hoping against hope that's it's not contaminated by any mining.

Now there is no magic, no do-overs. If they fall, if they break a bone, catch an infection or even a concussion. It will mean their death. Their packs filled with muggle necessities, muggle first aid. Spray that only starves off small wounds. They cannot heal themselves, cannot apparate, they must trek along the winding mountain up the sides of mountains, down to depths of a canyon. Choosing the safest paths. Working together, to climb, to scale and survive.

Time lost in this dangerous paradise, the option to turn back three climbs back. The hope to find water is becoming crucial, because they are on their last drops. The sun burning at fifty degrees, scorching their skin. She thanks Merlin, Bellatrix managed to secure their rucksacks, thanks to Merlin that the charm making their packs bigger on the inside remains. That the weight is nothing compared to real hidden weight.

"They're heading the way we're going," Bellatrix states watching the goats once more. "See there, the canyon merges."

"They're heading downwards." Hermione agrees.

"Water."

"Water."

They breathe the word at the same time, relief that the goats maybe proving their theory right. That the trek they chose leads towards the water. She hopes against hope that they're right.

Rising to her feet, she secures her hat once more, lifting her makeshift trekking pole in place. She borrowed Bellatrix's dagger on the second day whittling her a large fallen branch into a trekking pole. From some where Bellatrix produced an axe, cutting more branches creating and allowing Hermione to create two trekking poles each.

It saved them numerous times on their journey taking the weight off their backs, ensuring the sides of mountains were secure. Allowing them to help the other across the treacherous ground. Her uncle would be proud of her carpentry, after all, he taught her when she used to go to her cousin's house. When the top of the pops was boring, and she wanted to do something more. He would take her help in the shed, to help craft for his work.

Bellatrix leads the way, towards what they hope is salvation for a few more days. They pass a skeleton remains of a large animal; she hopes it won't be them. Hopes they face another future.

They march in silence energy preserved for their walking, to focus on putting one foot in front of another. It's a time like these she wishes she could turn to her other form, only appearing on the fifth night. Not again since she suspects Bellatrix is right the climate too hot for the werewolf to appear.

Dropping to her knees, she easies herself under the overhanging boulder, the rocks slipping over the edge. She learnt not to look, to ignore the deep descent. Groaning, she pushes back to her feet shuffling the bag on her back. Bellatrix ahead, glancing backwards to ensure Hermione is following, not that the witch can go anywhere.

"Here!"

The shout jolts her few hours into their journey, the sun beginning its slow descent. The night is dawning, they will have to stop soon for fear of losing their footing in the dark. Joining, Bellatrix at the edge, peering over to the source of the witch's excitement.

Miles down, she could guess a thousand feet maybe more, they will have to pick their way down. She can feel Bellatrix thinking, deciding if it's worth descending tonight or if to rest.

"Start early?" Hermione asks lips dry and cracking.

"We'll have to."

They have no choice, moving from the edge, they find a spot to roll out their sleeping bags, no need for a fire tonight. No need for a tent not with this temperature. Sipping the remains of her water, Hermione watches the sun slowly set marvelling at the beauty of nature. Digging in her rucksack for her tin of beans, starving, she eats. Once hating the cold tomato taste, she licks the tin clean now.

It's late as they star gaze full from their meals, watching the shooting stars rush past. Arms folded behind her head, Hermione feels almost tranquil, at peace, even with the dark witch lying near her.

"What do you miss most?" Bellatrix asks quietly, watching the stars.

"Food."

"No shit," Bellatrix grumbles throwing a pebble size stone at her Hermione.

"Hey!"

"A home comfort, come on, I need your dull tones to lure me to sleep."

"Sod off," Hermione grumbles catching the smile of Bellatrix's lips. "I don't know maybe my cat. It's reassuring…"

A loud snore interrupts her talking, Hermione manages to place a good hit on the witch's stomach. Causing Bellatrix to cough and laugh. Joining in, Hermione flips the witch off, earning another laugh.

"Seriously though, I miss my cat. His purr, presence and smell."

"Smell?"

"you never just inhale your pet?" Hermione asks. "Oh, I forgot, you probably have basilisk or something."

"Ha, you wish. I miss the hamster."

"What? You're pulling my leg."

"Mr Snyder, his little stubby legs"

"I'm not falling for it."

"Turned out it was a girl, so that was a shock when she popped out six babies."

Eyeing the witch sceptically, Hermione struggles to tell if Bellatrix is lying. Making a joke or downright serious. She looks almost reminiscent lost to her thoughts.

"Had to get a bigger enclosure, can only imagine the money it costs to feed them all. Can't exactly sell them, can I? Not technically legal."

"You're not talking about a dwarf hamster, are you?" Hermione sighs, racking her brains. "Oh, wow you have a Cricetinae?"

"No, I have seven weren't you listening? Honestly, your listening skills are shocking."

"You said Hamster!"

"Yes, Jasmine Cricetinae."

"Wow, can I meet them?" Hermione asks, she always wanted to meet the Siberian rodents.

Bellatrix throws her a queer look, a quick reminder that outside the trials they are not friends, they are enemies. It's because of a distant memory, the days, weeks and months spent in the trials. Hermione is losing track of the lines, the good and the bad. Outside they are enemies they despise one another.

It dulls her mood, the stars become almost taunting and she almost wonders if it's worth going back? Isn't it easier in here? No war, the world won't need to know she's a werewolf. They won't judge her; she could help those stuck in the trials. Living in the trials, away from the drama of the world.

"What?" Bellatrix asks rolling on to her side to study Hermione. "You've got that look."

"What look?" Hermione mumbles.

"The, I'm thinking too much, look."

Even now, Bellatrix has become someone who understands her, knows her. Is this what it feels like to suffer from Stockholm? Has Bellatrix successfully turned her against her friends? Yet, Hermione wants nothing more than to wrap her around the boys, to cuddle them. Hear them argue, laugh, to see Hogwarts in all it's glory.

She wants nothing more than to return to her parents, but the blood running through her skin. Well, it burns like a bad memory, that she is tainted. Never to be around those she loves for too long. Because the potions won't save her, won't stop her from turning. The world will turn against her, no matter what she does for the World. There's still Voldemort, Bellatrix will return to him, his most loyal.

Bellatrix still responsible for Sirius death, still held accountable for the Longbottom's. Outside this little world, they are the opposite sides, her blood makes sure of that. Her loyalties make sure of that, but the thought of fighting Bellatrix. It doesn't sit well with her, makes her insides churn. Her heart hammer and she wonders if she wants to leave. Does she want to stay? Her body aches, her soul begs for relief and her magic core remains damaged.

A stone pelts the side of her head, she winces in annoyance, rolling over to face Bellatrix. A reminder Bellatrix has a short attention span let alone void of any patience. Bellatrix who has somehow become more than the demon she first appeared to be.

"Well?" Bellatrix demands weighing up another stone.

"It's nothing." Hermione sums up it's easier to forget. "Just being stupid."

"Nothing new there."

She wants to retort, to throw a comeback but she struggles. Because that would mean banter, that would mean some level of friendship. Would mean a bigger trust.

"No, come back?" Bellatrix questions, Hermione can see the cogs turning in the dark depths.

"Did you ever expect this?" Hermione wonders aloud. "That anything like this would happen?"

"No, cannot say I did," Bellatrix answers honestly.

"You know…" She trails off, the thought sounds foolish, even worse spoken aloud.

"What?"

"I didn't expect to become friends."

A humourless chuckle from the dark witch, eyes alight with mirth. The build-up to a cackle Hermione knows is coming. She knows the stages of Bellatrix's laugh, the real laugh the one so deep it causes tears at the side of the witches' eyes. The one that makes her snort un-ladylike. The one that sets Hermione off, not this fake laugh. The defence that Bellatrix puts up when she must uphold her walls to keep people are arm's length. It used to hurt, to cut deep, would even make her shiver in fear. Now, it becomes a tiresome game one she has become bored with playing. Because it no longer matters in here, there are no sides only one goal. To escape and she doesn't care if she holds Bellatrix in regards to a friend.

She doesn't care the thought is almost liberating. What does it matter if she thinks of Bellatrix a friend? Even if the Dark witch doesn't believe it herself, no one knows. No one cares, because Hermione doesn't care. In the grand scheme of things, Hermione has more to worry about that being friends with Bellatrix.

Won't mean they will braid each other's hair or gossip about girls or boys. The very thought repulses Hermione, that's not Bellatrix. Not the dark witch who she relies upon to catch her when she slips. The witch who can get them out of a jail by enticing the jailers in with a flash of her bosom. The witch who teachers her so much about duelling and doesn't flinch when Hermione reveals the monster inside.

Somehow along this journey, she has come to rely upon Bellatrix, as a friend. A confidant, an equal and a teacher. She knows Bellatrix won't see it the same way, will never see it the same way. But Hermione could care less, in the trials they only have each other. Outside the trials, they may never remember so she allows the thought. The promise of friendship without fear of repercussion, it doesn't matter if Bellatrix betrays her. She almost expects it, perhaps disappointed if Bellatrix fails to.

"Friends!" Bellatrix cackles clutching her chest in the fake breathless way she always does. "Your funny one muddy."

Remaining quiet, Hermione merely watches the witch throw her usual performance, the walls firmly in place. It annoys Bellatrix more when Hermione remains quiet when she fails to rise to the taunt. When they dangle near a true conversation, that makes them so much closer.

"They say I'm tapped in the head." Bellatrix chuckles, but the pulse of her neck reveals everything.

This conversation is unnerving the witch. The silence is annoying her, the anger she can almost see it pulsing below the surface like a hellish volcano. Bellatrix hates to be on the back foot, especially concerning emotions.

"You're not crazy," Hermione comments rolling on to her back she continues her star gazing. "And yes, I consider you a friend. I know, I know I'm a mudblood, we're on opposite sides of the war blah, blah. In here, I see you as a friend. I might be crazy, you might think I'm mad, but it's the truth. And what I miss is my books. My history of Hogwarts. It always helps me relax."

The silence confirms her suspicions Bellatrix doesn't know how to reply. Can almost see the witch running through the idea of hurting Hermione just to prove a point. Tiredness comes at the end of the revelation; she closes her eyes.

"Night,"

She throws the word out, wondering if Bellatrix will be here in the morning or if she'll do a run overnight. Barely matters, because any movement from the witch will wake Hermione, with her sensitive hearing she can hear the dark witches laboured breaths. The thundering of her heart, the scuttling of a nearby lizard. Tries to drown it out, by focussing on her breathing allowing tiredness to win.

"Not far," Bellatrix calls from below.

They wake with the sun, eating before venturing out. The conversation of the night before forgotten stored away probably never to be talked about again. It serves Hermione just fine, she's not one spill her emotions. If anything in the light of day she fears rejection. Daylight makes it all real so she's grateful Bellatrix left the midnight confession where it belonged. At the top of the mountain.

"Listen," Hermione says pausing.

Bellatrix stops, a few feet below, allowing Hermione to listen. Utilizing Hermione's new trick to the best of the ability. It's saved them so far, on a few occasions.

"I can hear running water," Hermione states listening to the sounds of rushing water. Not a stream bigger. "River?"

"Waterfall?" Bellatrix questions.

"No," Hermione answers closing her eyes, "Running not crashing."

"Mouth of the river perhaps?" Bellatrix replies studying their descent. "Come on."

They continue Hermione, climbing downwards to the same ledge as Bellatrix, following it along. Along they go, down, backwards, sideways and along again. It's an odious trek, trying to find a safe way to the bottom. Her parched mouth, her water ran out, too proud to ask Bellatrix. Besides she knows the witch ran out the evening before could hear the empty rattle of a bottle.

She somehow manages to get in front of Bellatrix leading the descent, grasping on to the rocks. Grumbling as her top catches a cactus. _We need water._ The urge, the sight of running water creates an impulse. Picking up her pace, she leads the way.

"Slow," Bellatrix calls voice cracking from above. "Muddy, slow."

"I am, I am." Hermione retorts.

Catching her nail of rock, she pauses on the ledge allowing Bellatrix to catch up. Can hear the laboured breathes once more, the rattling in the chest. Knows the witch is slowing because of the lack of water. Hermione could get down, get the water to bring it to the witch. Wouldn't be too hard.

"Take the right there." Bellatrix points out to gradual descent.

"That ways shorter."

"No, right." Bellatrix orders.

It's slower painfully slower maybe another half hour to their journey. The other path although a sharper descent is walkable. They could do it on all fours crawl down. She could do it.

Bellatrix chooses the path down, fighting the urge to go the other way, Hermione follows. Spotting another ledge below she could lower Bellatrix too it.

"I can lower you there?" Hermione suggests.

"How do you plan to get down, I'm not catching you," Bellatrix grumbles.

"It's faster."

"So's jumping but you know there's a risk with that too."

The sarcasm sours the mood, so does the long descent. Hearing every breath that Bellatrix makes, the thundering heart between the rib cage. The glistening sweat; they're pumping out more liquids than they're drinking. The breaks between descents, it is agonising.

Rubbing her neck, she uses her hat to remove the sweat at the base of the neck. Her hair plastered against her forehead; the air humid. It burns her lungs on inhaling.

Leading the way once more, Hermione forces herself to slow down so Bellatrix can keep up. Can almost taste the water on her lips, it's when she spots a path to the left. It's quicker in the shade of the mountain, it breaks their descent in half the time. If they use their poles to check for loose rock, they'll be fine.

She chooses that way Bellatrix a few yards behind, unaware of their change of direction. Steadily she leads the way further along the new path. The rock surprisingly steady, she picks speed.

"Oi," Bellatrix voices makes her pause. "What the fuck you are doing?"

Still, on the old track, Bellatrix is waiting for a response, Hermione didn't realise how far ahead she was. Didn't matter they're close to the end; she can see the ground about a hundred feet below.

"This way…" Hermione states. "It's shaded."

"No, I told you to stick to the right."

"Who put you in charge?" Hermione demands.

"I did when I fucking kidnapped you," Bellatrix retorts. "Get your arse up here."

"Well tough, this way is quicker."

"Well, dear friend I don't give a shit." Bellatrix sneers annoyed. "It's loose rock not safe."

"It's all loose and since when did you become a fucking expert?"

"When I prepared for this bloody mission, now shut the fuck up and come back."

"No," Hermione argues. "This way is the best option."

"You boneheaded fuckwit," Bellatrix growls. "The rock is eroded; the shadow has created cool air which will create a slippery surface. It's loose now let's get down in one piece rather than several."

"I can do this."

"Fuck sake Granger, the wolf in you may be able to. You, your little human body will not. Now stop being a hot-headed Gryffindor and take the slow road."

She ignores the witch continuing with her path ignoring the insults thrown her way. Slow she makes her way down, using her poles to check the footing as she goes. Hears Bellatrix head the other way following the long path.

They both work in silence, Hermione aware of Bellatrix's location through her hearing, conscious the dark witch checking on her every now again. _Bugger me if she doesn't see us as friends._ She's about forty feet from the ground when she stops for a breath. Hands raw, she's grateful to be out of the sun.

A rock pelts her back, grumbling she turns to give Bellatrix a piece of her mind. The words fail to come though, it's not Bellatrix. The goats from the other day are charging up the side the mountain above them, pelting dislodging loose rock.

Covering her face, Hermione steps from the falling rocks, avoiding the dust. It's a large rock that makes her jump as it smashes next to her, looking up once more her heart sinks at the sight of two goats fighting. The clash of their horns, as they fight for dominance. It causes a shift in more rocks.

"Bellatrix!" Hermione shouts.

A few pants are her reply, as Bellatrix slowly comes into view glaring at Hermione.

"Trapped?" Bellatrix taunts.

Not answering, Hermione points to the fighting billies above them. Swearing, Bellatrix narrowly avoids a falling rock.

"Slightly ironic!" Hermione chuckles.

"Shut up!" Bellatrix shouts back, aware her previous actions are now haunting them.

Turning, back to her track, Hermione considers pausing her descent until the fight above subsides. A shout makes her jump, flinching as a shadow passes above. One of the billies retreating running down the mountain. They barely have time to react as it rushes past Bellatrix, knocking the witch.

She stumbles backwards. Breathless, Hermione watches her vanish from view. Shouting, Hermione calls out for the witch, panicked. Dodging the falling rocks as the rest of the goats continue their journey above.

"Bellatrix!" Hermione shouts.

She cannot hear above the pounding of her own heart, clutching her poles. This is all her fault she should have stayed with Bellatrix, what happens if this witch fell?

"Bellatrix! Bella!" Hermione calls, moving across the sloping rock aware of the forty-foot drop.

"M'fine!" Comes a mumbled reply. "Fucking cactus."

"What?"

"Stopped myself from falling, by holding on to a fucking cactus," Bellatrix shouts coming back into view clutching a bleeding arm.

From here, Hermione can see the spikes embedded, wincing at the smell of blood. "I'm coming over."

She moves across towards the rock to climb up towards Bellatrix, the witch will need help pulling the spikes out.

"No, Granger," Bellatrix warns.

"It's fine, I'm fine."

"Granger!"

"What?" Hermione demands.

Smack.

Rock pelts the side of her head, she stumbles, disorientated falling to her knees. Wincing, she touches the side of her head grateful to find it sweaty but not bleeding. Grumbling, she pushes to her feet, ready to give the goats a piece of her mind.

Stepping forward, she watches for any more falling rocks. Her left foot slips beneath her, the falling rocks causing the rocks to dislodge. She slips her right knee taking the brunt of her fall. Pain rushing through her body, she curses under her breath. The pole jabs her shoulder, she lets go the pole falling from her grip. She goes to grab it, too much momentum. It shifts the ground around her, her knee slipping.

She has no time to shout out, already falling, the rush of air. Her hands fail to grab for support. The ground rushing to meet her. Blood rushing, heart pounding.

Thud.

Hitting the hard ground, it rocks her skeleton. The breath knocked out of her; she sees stars. Too shocked to move, she stares at the blue sky above. Coughing, she rolls to her side, grateful to still be moving. Wiggling her toes, she breathes a sigh of relief. _Not paralysed._ Resting her head against the ground she laughs, staring at the ledge above.

Pushing to her knees, she hears the running water, can see a large section of water above. Dusting herself down she searches for any broken bones. None. _Lucky._ Slowly, she stands. _Ouch._ Her right ankle gives way, she catches herself limping. Wiggling her toes, it causes pain, can see the ankle swelling. A sprain potentially. Collecting her poles, she limps towards the water, collapsing to her knees she cups the water.

Freshwater, she's almost giddy as her chapped lips touch the liquid. Relieved, she submerges her head in the clear liquid. Breaking the surface, she wipes the water away.

Jumping as a hand grabs her top, pulling her back to an angry Bellatrix. A very breathless Bellatrix, who seems torn between torturing Hermione and hugging her.

"Ta-dah!" Hermione proclaims pointing to the water.

"Fucking clover," Bellatrix growls falling to her knees next to the water.

Bellatrix cups the water in her free hand sipping the life-giving liquid, Hermione aware the witch is still gripping her top. Even now she holds on to Hermione as though she might disappear. _Not my friend my arse._ Hermione smirks resting her head against Bellatrix's shoulder. Neither witch wanting to admit how close they were this time at running out of water. _Too close, too close._


	19. Chapter 19

**A/n** : I hope this story brings some distraction to the real world. Take care all.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Nineteen**

 ** _Friend or Foe_**

 _The enemy of my enemy is my friend - Various_

Pins and needles shoot through her fingers, causing her to shift underneath her sleeping bag. Pulling her knees to her chest she feels tiny in the belly of the valley. Swamped by the towering mountains. It puts everything in perspective, now she has nothing but to admire than the scenery. No cause out here, only herself and the mudblood asleep near her.

She has never set eyes outside of England, only now do her achievements feel small. So insignificant. She feels small, knows her name still carries weight perhaps not for the best reasons. Still, people know of her from all corners of the world but here. In the valley where they are currently damned, she is no one. They are no one. Perhaps they will just become bones like the ones they pass the ones picked clean by vultures. A forgotten memory.

They ran out of food eight days ago, her stomach cramps. Hunger it's achingly painful, enough water for a few more days. Without food though they are as good as dead. They are exerting, what did muddy call it? Calories? Yes, exerting more calories than intaking. Their last bar of food ran out what morsels they had last forgotten by their tongue.

Muddy's ankle bound by a bandage, the bloody witch sprained it falling down the side of the mountain. Worse yet was the head wound, sustained by the falling rock. _If she just kept to the fucking…_ A fight perhaps for another day, now Bella needs to focus. Granger lost blood from the head wound, can barely walk on her ankle.

Every day she half expects the witch to sit down and not rise again. To throw her hands up in defeat. She supposes it's not in Granger's nature, although today came close. Close to defeat, Granger, telling Bella to move on. To find them food, leave her behind and come back. They both know no one will be coming back. If there's anyone to come back to. Out here, they have nothing no second chance.

She could have a concussion, a fracture to the skull. Perhaps even a blood clot, she could collapse from the head wound any day. Through the years Bella has seen many witches and wizards return from the field with a head wound to die in their sleep. Its possible Granger might not wake tomorrow, perhaps that's why she refuses to look at the sleeping witch. Perhaps it's the reason she fails to fall asleep.

She craves her magic, her wand for it to flood her system. To release the pent-up anger building, the frustrations growing. She could heal Granger with a mere flick of a wand, could summon their food to kill the goats that taunt them. Eat their flesh and devour them with abandon.

Never one to go without magic, sure she learnt how to defend herself without a wand. Now though, she needs her magic as much as the food. Her fingers itch her blood pulses with need. Bella knows Granger too is struggling, no magic affecting the young witch. Despite her filthy blood, Granger requires magic just as much as Bella.

Pulling her sleeping bag tight, she leans back against the solid ground too hungry to fall asleep but too tired to stay awake. She drifts, aching, muscles contracting, feet cramping. Her thighs chafed, the cream providing little relief. Her shoulders burn from carrying the rucksacks. Carrying Grangers today, worried the ankle will not bear more weight.

How the witch continues to move it, Bella doesn't know. Can see the bulge through the trousers, every wince. Her own feet rubbed raw by her boots; she hasn't removed her socks for a day scared to reveal the ever-growing problem. It's days like today she wishes her Lord will find her, kill or save them she's not sure which she wishes for more. The thought scares her, she is near her end. Their talking has slowed, other than instructions they remain focussed on their footing. Only their stomachs speak rumbling a constant reminder that time is running low.

Thud.

Jumping, she pulls her dagger from her sleeping bag holding it out in front of her. Hands shaking from the exertion, her eyes track the darkness only the stars as her light. Chest rising, heart pumping, she easies out of her bag, crouching low. _Did Granger get up? Did she fall over?_ Her sense scream, yelling that there is something wrong.

The hairs on her neck inform her something is watching her. That whatever made the noise is not Granger, is not friendly. Tongue dry she tries to swallow, to loosen the words trapped in her mouth. A warning to Granger, a shout to the enemy, she's not sure.

Crunch.

Flinching, she turns to the sound of the noise, searching desperately for the noise in the dark. Only boulders surround them. Her stomach drops at the sound of something being torn. The smell of iron is overwhelming, the smell of death in their little sanctuary. Another crunch, jaws snapping through bone, she bulks.

"Gr… Granger." She whispers stuttering on the name.

Looking over her shoulder she spots the torn sleeping bag, ripped apart by something. Turning away, Bella grips the dagger, shit. The eating has stopped, silence other than the crickets ensues. The thumping of her heart, the rushing of her blood. Licking her parched lips, she spots movement from behind a boulder.

Something large, hidden in the dark, it stalks closer. _Am I next?_ She's not sure whether to be relieved or scared. An end to this stupid mission. AN end to their misery, she tries not to think of Granger. Did she feel pain? _Am I sleeping, please let this be a dream?_

Thud.

Stumbling backwards something lands in front of her kicking up the desert dust. Is this Granger's body? She feels for the torch near her feet, ignores her shaking hand as she flicks the button. Pointing the light, she steps closer a frown flickering across her features. A dead goat?

Slowly, she tracks the desert floor towards the moving shadow, tracing along with the big hairy white paws. The glinting fangs, the panting of an overly hungry werewolf. _Granger._ Blood it glints, dark eyes reflect the light narrowing at the intrusion.

She barks a laugh, making the wolf flinch, baring its teeth. Doesn't care if she's spooking the wolf, she's relieved to see the hairy beast.

"Never thought I'd be happy to see a werewolf," Bella mutters rubbing her face, pinching her eyes she regains control of her breathing.

Hears the wolf retreat to its food leaving Bella to her goat. She doesn't waste a second rushing to gather a fire, she's quick to light it. Feels like a madwoman as she whispers to the flames. Knife slicing through the skin of the goat she works methodically, ignoring the wary gaze of the lumbering beast.

The first bite is almost magical, she forgets the chewiness. The lack of any herbs, she eats the goat without fuss. Without worry, filling her stomach until she collapses back on her sleeping bag. She allows the fire to burn into the night, aware the wolf has vanished once more.

Drifting asleep, she wakes once more to the sound of the wolf panting near her face. The smell of death washing over her face she tries not to gag. Tries not to flinch at the enormous fangs that hover above her eyebrow. Turning, she spots a large white sealed tub, covered in mud.

Pushing to her feet she inspects the tub, a paw smacking the sealed top. She bats it away ignoring the growl, she pries the top off. Supplies. Hikers supplies, Granger has managed to find another hikers supplies. Absently she wonders about the hikers relying on the supplies, she pushes the thought aside.

She's moved aside by the large head as the wolf rifles through the tub. Shoving the wolf, she pulls the tub away groaning at the sight of something in the teeth of the wolf. She fails to grab it before the creature scurries away with its reward. If it managed to find this, then it will mean they are on the right track.

She spends the next few minutes rationing their supplies. The remaining goat that is not being eyed up by the circling wolf all rationed. She throws the remains off to the side, the wolf pouncing instantly. Hiding the rations, she buries it beneath her sleeping bag hoping the wolf won't eat her in search of more snacks.

Climbing into her sleeping bag she douses the fire, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention if there is anyone around. Curling up, she allows her mind to wander listening to the wolf mooch around. Rolling her eyes as it begins to howl into the night.

"OI!" She shouts after ten minutes. "Cut it out!"

Surprisingly, the wolf obeys, going quiet until she hears the padding of feet. The licking, she knows the wolf is grooming its coat. She wonders if Granger will get hairballs if the witch will heave up the fluff. It makes her chuckle at the image. She also wonders where Granger will now be sleeping since the wolf destroyed her sleeping bag trying to get out.

 _How did it come to this? Being at ease with a werewolf? Trusting a werewolf? And when did we start calling muddy, Granger?_ The last question causes her pause, she's not sure when she became Granger or why. It's the question she ponders as sleep begins to claim her.

A paw nudges her back making her jump, she closes her eyes as the beast towers over her body. This is it; it's going to eat her. She groans as another paw pads at her abdomen, moving her to her back. _No. No. NO!_

"Ah." She grumbles as the creature circles above her shifting her body as though a mere pillow. "No."

Her words fall on deaf ears as the werewolf settles atop of her, curled up. Surprisingly, it's not as heavy as Bella thought, it doesn't stop the knobbly elbows digging into her gut. Her whole body moves as the wolf pants.

"No," Bella groans struggling to move beneath the creature. "Off."

Dark orbs turn to her, still panting the wolf twists it's head to the side studying her. She glares, using her only free hand to point.

"Off!"

Lick.

Ugh. Wiping her face, she grumbles at the slobber. Ugh no. Of all the bloody things, Granger had to turn into an affectionate bloody werewolf. Did the bloody thing even have a bad bone in its body, or did it merely live to survive? Yawning, the wolf stretches before settling its head on Bella's collar bone. Sighing, Bella stares up to the sky, hesitantly resting her hand on the wolfs head. Pauses at the flinch, before gently ticking the wolf behind the ear. A steady thump of a tail reassures her the affection is appreciated.

 _Smells like Granger._

She falls asleep at the thought, warmed through by the slumbering beast resting on top of her. The wolf waking at every noise, a comfort. Bella sleeps deeper than she has in weeks knowing the creature will pick up on anything way before Bella would.

The sun makes her stir, blinking, she stretches out stopped by weight on top of her. Flinching under the sunlight she starts in alarm noticing its mid-day by the position of the sun. Did they sleep that long? For the first time in days, her stomach doesn't groan with hunger. However, the buzzing of flies and the hovering of vultures makes her aware of the previous night. The flies congregating in a mass behind the rocks probably snacking on the remains of goats.

A knee in her bladder reminds her she is in desperate need of the toilet. Looking down, she studies the witch sleeping on top of her. Drooling on Bella's sleeping bag, stark naked. Thankfully, they are shaded by a rock, so Granger won't be getting a tanned arse. Or sunburnt one at that.

Smirking, Bella admires the witch a second longer a nice tan forming. _Really?_ Snapping from her thoughts, she coughs disturbing the witch. Watches hazel eyes blink, a lob sided smile at Bella. A smile Bella struggles not to return. _I'm going soft._ Granger not fully awake to realise her situation. Raising a suggested eyebrow, Bella watches the intelligent mind click. Confusion soon followed by a blush that tracks down to the witch's chest. A hand rushing to cover her private parts earning a snort from Bella as the young witch fumbles for clothes.

"As much as I wish to jibe you," Bella states making the witch pause. "I could care less that your naked I need a piss and you keep knocking my bladder. So, unless you want me to piss on you…"

Shuffling to her feet, Granger uses a piece of Bella's clothing to cover her parts. Allowing, Bella to rise to her feet. Stretching, Bella laughs at the bewildered witch struggling to grasp the situation. Taking herself away, Bella finds a spot to relieve herself groaning in relief.

"I've seen it all before Granger," Bella calls from behind a rock. "I've got the same parts."

"Right," Is the mumbled reply. "Wh… What happened?"

"You went for a moonlight walk."

"Did I hurt anyone?"

"Only the goats."

A breath of relief, the rummaging of items as Granger searches for clothes. A groan as she realises, she has no sleeping bag.

"Hey," Granger shouts making Bella jump as she takes a walk back. "My foots healed and my head."

Bounding around the corner, Granger is quick to show off her newly healed ankle. The cut on her forehead gone, nimble fingers gently probing where the wound used to be. Studying the witch, Bella merely smirks as Granger stands in only pants. Not one to waste an opportunity, Bella admires the witch's assets, perky breasts and toned stomach. Long legs remind Bella that the witch is far from a girl now, much more an adult. Curves in all the right places, a large mole on her hipbone.

"Nice mole." Bella comments.

A deep flush covers Granger's cheek as she realises her mistake. Scurrying away to the sound of Bella's cackle chases after her. A mumbling in response even as Bella continues to laugh. They might just make it out of this after all.

~~~~ _ADITM~~~~~_

The oxygen burns her lungs, the air ripped apart, the heat it scorches her skin. The trees seem to ripple in fear buckling under the pressure. The ground shifts, the sky darkens, the sun blocked by the raging magic. It's terrifying in all it's majestic quality. Her blood pulses responding to the call, her skin tingles. Her heart hammers but her feet remained grounded.

Rapture it covers graceful features, the swan neck tilted, the vein pulses. Long fingers curl, sprout and spew unrelenting magic. Lips move with such speed, it becomes a trance, trapped in their bubble. As the ground blackens and the grass burns.

Just the two of them with the river raging, drawn to its new gravity, drawn to the powerful magic. Fear it strips her of sense, the urge to run, the need to stay and pure admiration. It strikes her stupid at the display of magic, leaves her strung close to the endless river. Close to destruction at a curved wand suspended in this limbo.

It's a panted breath that brings an end to the display, the flock of birds shooting towards the sky. The world starts once more, wild boar rushing from hiding they scurry oinking. Perhaps she should run too, follow them to the foliage hide from such magic. Such magic it darkens her soul, it calls to her demon. Beckoning. A promise of untold potential, the truth to real magic. Not the prancing magic they learn at school, not the test they are subjected to, no. Its real raw magic that courses through black blood that flickers behind dark orbs.

It controls every muscle of the witch in front of her, every breath. The muscle that tenses, the flexing veins that beat to a new rhythm. The eyes that dilate, the knowledge contained within the dark curls. Beneath the layers of a witch who can control their environment.

It ends. The wand smoking, the ground weeping and the animals cry. Was this pure malice, darkness a nightmare behind pale skin? Magic reunited with its owner, a glee, a twinkle of hope it brings life as quick as oxygen to her lungs. Makes her suck in a deep breath, the smoke fills her lungs, taints her skin.

She doesn't know whether to fall to her knees in worship or to run as fast as possible. Tear away from this place, to leave the witch to her thoughts and never return. Her magic well it pulses grateful to reunite with her wand. No longer suppressed by the trial she fails to rectify the same results. Timid perhaps to even release anything out of fear. Out of disapproving eyes, she wants those orbs to turn to her in praise. Craves it almost.

Is this what it was like for the witch, for Bellatrix. When witnessing Voldemort for the first time, did she crumple with desire? Did her magic tingle and burn in response? Or did he? Did he see the opportunity to create a weapon so fierce, so unpredictable he was never sure he would control it? To create Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, did he morph her into his finest creation. Did he suppress her true power? Is that why the world hunts them, not to save Hermione but to recapture the witch who could defeat both wizards on both sides.

"Your staring," It's the gravel voice that stops any further questions forming. "Why?"

It's almost as though another part of Bellatrix is released with the reunion of magic. As though a very own entity by itself another part of her personality. Perhaps that's what crawls in the depths of daring eyes, just below the surface. The one that flickers in the reflection of the fire under the stars, that studies too much. It rears its ugly head when threatened, when free and when madness knocks.

"Teach me." The words stumble unbidden, but she refuses to take them back. She craves the magic, craves Bellatrix to teach her.

"What?" It's a spiteful word, laced with malice and wrapped in humour.

"Teach me, please."

"Not happening."

"Why?" It's a demand, her backbone firmly planted.

"Because…"

"I'm a mudblood? Tough, you owe."

"How'd you figure that?" There it is the madness creeping on the edges of the peripheral vision. _Hello Lestrange._

"I got us here,"

"I carried your sorry arse."

"I kept us alive, _we_ kept you alive." Perhaps she imagined the growl in her voice, the way Bellatrix recoils however she knows her demon is awake. "Teach me."

"Which one of you is asking?" Bellatrix wonders morbid curiosity settling across her features, Hermione a lab rat to the witch.

"Both."

They stand barely a foot apart; Hermione can hear it though. The thump, thump of the heart, hear the buzzing of blood. Every intake of air, the scurrying of a mouse two metres in the grass, the flap of the hawk above. The beady eyes of a grass snake, if only Bella knew, knew of her new heightened senses.

"What do I get out of this?" Bella demands imperiously folding her arms.

"Humour? You get to watch me fail…" Hermione trails of considering her options as Bella nods, that option is acceptable but not enough. Not enough to tempt the temptress into revealing her art, her craft of magic.

"What else?" A mere challenge because they both know Hermione has nothing Bellatrix doesn't have or the means to get.

"A secret."

It's the temptation, bait that could be useless to the likes of Bellatrix. Could be pointless for both but it grabs the witch's attention. Steals it, the unknown elusive and promising in all his masking glory. Could be worthless, could be the best trade since time.

"Umm." The deep hum, a finger tapping against a proud chin. "Tempting."

 _I know._

"What makes you think your worth teaching?" Bella replies the idea still buzzing.

"The fact you kidnapped me, the fact we're both still alive," An eyebrow raised out of both annoyance and praise. "The fact you're considering it at all."

"Fine," Her heart jumps in excitement although she knows there's a but. "But," _There it is._ "IF your secret is shit, then you can shove this up your arse."

A nod, a mere acceptance, because she cannot speak out of excitement. Despite the rotating hand insisting upon the secret to being revealed. She falters at the last hurdle this was her last secret, could she reveal it? _Yes._

"Well?" Bellatrix enquires annoyed at the delay, the hesitancy.

"I have a heightened sense of sound," Hermione announces, but it feels foolish even to herself.

"Did that knock to the head do more damage than we thought?" Bella questions frustrated. "I already know this you…"

"No, you don't." Hermione interrupts, pulling her wand out watches the tensing of Bella's wrist. "It's so much more now… I can't explain it."

"Try."

Lifting her wand, she taps her head, a single tap, a single invite. "You'll need to see for yourself."

It's an invitation for the witch to enter her mind, to see through Hermione's eyes. It's dangerous, her only haven away from the trials from Bella. She needs to show someone though because she fears the only other option. She's gone mad in the trials and all this is in her mind. She doesn't fear for her memories, Bellatrix quick to teach Hermione how to protect her thoughts. Not a lesson, not as such more a constant intrusion at the beginning she learnt quickly to keep the witch out.

"What ploy is this?" Bella demands, eyeing the wand in Hermione's hand.

With a soft thud her wand falls to the wayside, unarmed, only a silent threat lingers in her mind. In her soul it stalks the shadows, peering through the window of her mind. Watching the world, now though it stays dormant. After all, it kept them both alive during their last adventure. Tired from its nightly prowls, her body tired. She needs rest will no doubt collapse in their tent at the end of this revelation.

The only way they survived the valley of the doomed as they both named it. Because of her wolf form, it kept them going, pushing on at night. Hunting any wildlife, tracking ahead, a week more since it showed its face at night. They found the end falling through to the fresh sound of running water. Despite the forest around them, they almost hugged the boggy ground. Grateful to be away from the hell of the desert. They will never moan about trees again.

"You need to see to understand, I warn you though it's disorientating," Hermione warns.

Hesitant, Bella studies the young witch before studying the fallen wand in the mud. Hermione still a threat they both know this, a threat without a wand. Neither knows what the beast that resides in her will do when Bella enters. Despite the fact the wolf chose to sleep on top of Bella during the nights in the desert how friendly it truly was when threatened, well they will only find out.

"If this is a trick…" Bella lets the threat fall even as the wand lifts.

"Just trust me." Hermione sighs rolling her eyes in annoyance.

It's a strange feeling, the rush as someone enters your mind. As though crammed into a cupboard elbow in faces, knees hitting soft stomachs they adjust. Bella a presence of her own, it makes them both wince.

Adjusting, takes a few seconds, Hermione trying to allow the witch to gather herself before thrusting the senses upon her. They both sense the wolf prowling near, watching, studying, assessing the new threat.

 _Ready?_

 _Get on with it Granger._

 _This will be… uncomfortable._

It's the only word she can think of, as she switches gears, the rushing of her mind. She settles back to the side ignoring the pressure, she allows Bella to step forward.

 _Bella now, is it?_

Smirking, Hermione ignores the question, disconnecting from her senses, she feels the moment Bella sees through her mind. Stabilizes her body as Bella flinches from the on slaughter. She watches from the back of her mind, as the world around them crashes in.

It's deafening, from her seat, she can only imagine what Bella will be feeling. The squawking of birds, the rustling of the grass, the scratching of a squirrel claws on a trees bark. The thumping of Bella's heart, the rushing of the raging river. Can hear the droplets of water dripping from Hermione's wet clothes. The steady drip amplified in the mind.

The foliage no longer dark but open she can see the scurrying of woodlice. The sight of deer thirty feet away slowly moving through the trees. The fish swimming below the rippling water.

The smell of burning grass, the overwhelming smell of sweat, the touch of raspberry. The earthy smell, the damp moss, a beaver's den. Can almost taste the newly opened soup set aside for tea, the tomato it lingers imaginary on her tongue.

It's daunting, mind-fucking. She kicks Bella out from her mind almost as fast as she enters, disorientating them both. She finds her feet even as the dark witch stumbles away clutching her forehead. What would it be like returning to her human senses?

Can hear the sucking of deep breathes nails clutching her robe, the flutter of eyelids. It's almost normal now, the sense no longer overwhelming merely another part of her.

"Shit," It's a mumble from the dark witch.

"So, you going to train me?"

"You've been holding back Granger," Bella murmurs righting herself. "The secret was worth it. I'll train you, first rest though, my mind is fucking pounding."

Grateful, Hermione slips past the dark witch heading into the depths of their tent. She doesn't change as she collapses on to her bed, grateful they erected the large tent. Her body sore, her mind aches. Sleep claims her in seconds she drifts off listening to the sounds of Bella settling outside the tent. Always on guard.

 _When did she become a Bella?_

* * *

 ** _A/n:_** I know, I know I've made the werewolf cute, I know this isn't a representation of JK's werewolf. However as much as I love JK I love werewolves just as much. Have from a young age, I truly believe they are mistaken mystical creatures. Like wolves like any animals, animals are not wholly evil, they only kill to survive. I wouldn't suggest walking up to a wolf and hugging one. I merely think werewolves have character development in Harry Potter. We will delve a bit more into the mind of the wolf, and we will learn truly what it is capable off. For now though let us pretend its cute and cuddly until; reality catches up.

Thank you everyone who is still here, who continue to review and to motivate me to write. I appreciate every single response I get from all my stories. Helps me push through this shit time, Bellamione providing some sort of sanctuary. I just want you all to know that none of you are alone, everyone is in the same boat. Perhaps we could pass the time, be interesting to know where everyone currently is who reads this. What countries your from and to know everyone in the world is in the same boat.

So I'll start, Hello to my dear readers from sunny Cornwall in England. (Well it's currently night time as I write but it has been beautiful here as of late.) Looking forward to see where you all currently are.

 _Till next time..._


	20. Chapter 20

**A/n:** I hope this story brings some distraction to the real world. Take care all.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect. CHARACTER Death.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty**

 **Fighter**

 _I don't need you to save me_

 _I don't need you to cure me_

 _I don't need you and your antidote for I am my disease_

…

 _I will always fall and rise again_

 _Your venomous heroine_

 _'Cause I am a survivor_

 _Yeah, I am a fighter_

 _In this Moment – The Fighter_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _It feels forever since I've written to you. Time passes differently here; I don't think you'll understand just how. I don't know the date or day, I'm not even sure the month. I like to think the year is still the same. The thing is, I've done things. Things I thought I was never capable of and I worry. Worry because sometimes it's not as difficult as it should be. I always thought to do the wrong thing was harder, I never thought it could be easy._

 _I hope your well, I hope we're winning. I hope you know I love you and that despite everything I've done, you understand, I did this for the greater good. That sometimes the needs of the many out weight the needs of the few._

 _I know her true wish. I know my wish, I'm not sure I can do this anymore. I don't know if I want to return do you think me mad. Maybe I am. Why would I want to stay here, with her? Every day death trails us it gets harder sometimes I forget what sleep is. I forget the taste of food; her mission is now mine and I worry._ _Lines are crisscrossed_ _here._ _I don't know where I stand anymore, please don't judge me. Don't hate me. I think only you might understand, perhaps you're the only one I trust._

 _I love you._

 _Hermione._

Slap! He crushes the mosquito against his neck, squinting at the pain that flares. He feels the bites, every one of them grates against his clothes. The sweat trickles down his back, exhaustion it tugs on his consciousness. How many days have they been in this bloody forest? Lost. A short cut his uncle thought would save them time, except the further they went in the harder it became.

They lost track on the first day, his uncle trapping them in the forest. The compass not working, only pointing north-west the opposite way they needed to go. They only went this way because Frank twisted his knee. A short cut to the camp how did they become so lost?

How on earth did they bump into two female backpackers? Even now he wonders if they're angels if they don't exist, but the comments from Pas he knows they're real. So very real, even in the deep dank woods he can smell the perfume of the girl. It reminds him of his mums' perfume, the one she wore for special occasions. Before the accident, her passing, before he moved in with his uncle. Uncle Hugo, a farmer all tough talk a man's man. His brother loves his uncle he has a shotgun he gets to shoot, off-roaders to drive through the farm. A reminder it didn't matter what they learnt in school because it was the land that rewarded them.

Eighteen, Rory doesn't want to be a farmer, he hasn't got the hands for it. Nor the stamina, he wants to become something more, his teachers want him to become something more. Didn't want to be dragged to the forest as some stupid bonding session, a man's adventure.

He doesn't regret meeting the women, Hermione the youngest, a strange relationship she has with her travelling companion. He cannot put the finger on it. Are they sisters? They vehemently deny it, he doesn't dare ask if the older woman is Hermione's mother. Something wrong with that woman, the dark eyes that trace his thin frame as though he just dirt on the bottom of her nail.

His uncle told him to keep his gob shut when they stumbled across the women, he was dubious. Do two beautiful women just so happen to be lost in the same woods as them? He's read too many horrors, seen too many films to know. Things like this didn't happen. Were they meant to forget the slaughtered stag they came across when entering the woods? Killed by a creature, not a bear as Pas kept reassuring, it was something else. A bear didn't do that, doesn't string a creature up in the trees.

His neck tingles the way it does when someone at school stares at him, whispers about him. _That's the boy with no parents._ Why wouldn't they point I it was his car his parents died in.

Closing his eyes, he stops with the rest of the group a short breather as they scrounge for the last remains of their water. He rests his hands on his knees, worn out. Even his uncle the survivalist is struggling his five o'clock stubble wet from exhaustion. They're all so tired, except the two women who seem unfazed by this trek.

What did they say? They've been backpacking through Europe for months. How did they come to have beautiful tans? How did they stay so chilled, so calm in the creepy forest? No sweat? Endless food they were unsure they wanted to share. Well, Hermione was happy to share, to help them, the other Bellatrix. What sort of name was that? She was hostile on their first meeting it didn't matter Pas had a machete to cut through the forest. If anything, he feared the woman more unarmed she vibrated anger. Her eyes like black coal at the bottom of BBQ still too hot to touch but cool on the exterior.

She unnerved him, even his uncle warned to steer clear of the woman who kept to herself when they camped. They both did untrusting of their new allies in the forest. He supposes it makes sense two women with four men; it would make most uncomfortable.

He notices today though there's a different tension, Hermione is fuming. He'd seen it in his ex when he told her he couldn't come to the wedding cause of a football game. He vowed never to see it again. They've argued, must be the night before both women last to fall asleep the first awake. In their little tent, his seen them take shifts when he'd go for a wee at night. One sleeping while the other remains awake, did their presence truly scare them so? Or was it the forest set them on edge?

He hasn't seen the women spare a single word to one another, only hisses if anything. His uncle reminding to stay well away from the fight. He knew better than to interfere. Still, he wonders what they argued about, they were fine the day before. Only on edge because of their new friends. What made them fall out so much? So much, he can feel the anger rippling through Hermione's frame.

"Found something!" His Uncle rushes back towards them, jacket torn in his haste bag left behind.

They all follow not as quickly, through the thick forest. Crawling when the machete fails to cut through the branches, thorns tugging at their coats. Mud on his knees he pushes to his feet staring in wonder at the ancient building. It looks almost toppled in, an old monastery in the forest. It's stunning in its old architecture.

"Get a picture of this!" His Uncle shouts to Frank standing on top of a gravestone.

He shakes his head at the lack of respect, studying the building instead. The forest has begun to reclaim the ground, pulling the bell tower downwards into the main section of the building. Moss growing over the side, branches smashing through the window. It must have sat empty for years, centuries maybe. The graves almost swallowed by the forest as though they never existed.

"Come on." Pas nudges his uncle into the building.

The urge to tell them not to go, to not enter the derelict building fails to form. He gave up ages ago trying to tell his uncle not to do something. That his actions are dangerous, like the time he rode his Harley without a jacket. Wanting to do wheelies. Broken arm as a told you so, he wishes he could be as free-spirited. Rory wishes he could easily forget the nagging voice in his head.

Slowly he wanders around the building admiring the scenery, he might never see anything like this again. If anything, he'll be going to London, to continue to study he hasn't told his uncle, not yet. For now, he wants to get out of this haunting forest away from the danger, the strange noises at night. Not badgers or foxes, not a bear something else in this forest. A growl so low in the dark of the night, he wonders if he's imagining it. He notices Hermione hears it too, her eyes always watching the forest, as though she can see through it.

"No."

The word stops him, he catches a glimpse of black hair recognises the sound of Hermione's voice. Pressing against the old structure he hears shuffling feet. A scuffle taking place between the two women, a dull slap followed by a much higher-pitched one. Curses so low, he strains to hear the whispers.

"Fuck you," Hermione growls breathless, anger it laces her words he flinches at the vulgar language.

"You seem to forget muddy," Bellatrix replies with just as much venom. "We're in this together."

"No, I won't help. Where in the world do you think I'd agree to that?"

"You don't have a choice,"

"No? After this, when we get away from this haunted forest. I'm going the other way to you."

"You'll die."

"So, will you."

Confused, Rory tries to control his breathing so as not to be caught. What were they arguing about? Were they convicts on the run? Are they hiding from the law is why they acted so hostile?

"And what?" The conversation has moved on, changed so rapidly he struggles to keep up between their whispers. "You think the Order will take you back? They will but they'll have you on a leash, you know that. Dumbles won't let you anywhere near Potter, not with your blood. Or what you going to go one with those idiot muggles how long you think you'll last before you change?"

"Get off me."

"No."

"It's a death wish." Hermione snaps followed by the sound of shuffling another struggle. "Your wish is defunct. Do you think it'll work? You want that psycho back in your life?"

"Watch your tongue filth…"

"The wish is redundant."

"I will have my Lord back at his full potential."

Fuck, they've run away from a cult. What religion did they worship, some sort of Order ruled by a Lord of some kind? Did Hermione want to escape, is that why the older woman was here. Had she tracked Hermione down, persuading her to return?

"The wish won't work Bellatrix; he didn't die at Harry's hand. We don't know why he died that night, but he didn't die by Harry."

"Of Course not, he was a baby."

There Lord tried to kill a baby? No wonder Hermione wanted out of this madness he didn't blame her. Perhaps he could help her escape, but would his uncle believe him.

"He died by his own spell," Hermione's voice rings loud. "If you make your wish, he will still die. I thought you wanted your daughter back."

"I do."

"Then why make such a foolish risk…"

"He will allow me to keep her, I only lost her because he died that night. If he lived, he would allow me to keep her."

"He would never allow it, you had an affair with Longbottom if he didn't kill her, Lestrange would. Your husband would."

"Shut up."

"Bella, listen to me. Make a wish any wish, but that wish will not work. He will still die that night to rise again. Surely, wish for him to win the war?"

Silence it's deathly in the woods, not even the birds seem to chirp. Not in the creepy wood, as though they're too scared to make any noise. His neck prickles again.

"You do want him to win? Don't you?"

"Obviously."

The voice lacks its usual bite though and Rory wonders does she want them to win? Whoever they are?

A scream makes him jump falling to the ground in shock grasping his chest in fear. Turning wide eyes towards the front of the church. A flash of black as Bellatrix rushes towards the noise, pushing to his feet. He brushes himself down, freezing when he finds Hermione staring at him. Disappointed? Annoyed, his not sure what emotion flickers across her face before it settles for anger.

"You were eavesdropping?" She demands angrily.

"I… Your bleeding." He fumbles for words pointing at her split lip.

Her hand wipes the blood away, she stares at it as though confused, he wants to offer her his hand. Promise her that he can help her if she wants to get away from the woman. He can save her, once they are out of this forest, he can help her escape. That she doesn't need to suffer in silence.

"I can help you," He mutters, shocked at his bravery, startling her from her trance. "If you need my help, I can save you."

"Save me?"

"From her?"

Understanding, dawns honey eyes darting to the way the other woman had run, before returning to Rory. Endless depths he can almost see his own scared eyes staring back. No longer so sure she needs saving, there's a deeper strength in the young woman. An age beyond her years, her head tilts to the side as though wondering what to do with him. She's unarmed, but right now he feels so very threatened, that she could kill him easily.

He's never seen anything like her before, a young woman with such fierceness, such conviction and attentiveness it makes him squirm. She's nothing like the girls at his school, and he wonders if he had it wrong. Maybe it's Bellatrix that needs saving not this slip of a woman.

A chuckle, breathless in its appearance, wide eyes turns towards the sky as though unbelieving. That the very situation is boring her, that his words are foolish. He finally understands what he's seeing, not just strength but bravery. Her courage that despite the situation she's in full control. That the black-haired beauty that terrifies four grown men is a mere trifle. He didn't recognise it at first because he's never had that backbone. Never dared to do what's right, to do what's needed. Even the day his parents died. It's also something else he recognises, a killer staring back.

He's seen it in his reflection at night, when he stares at the mirror, his own dark eyes haunting him. Because unlike her he was a coward, whereas he can imagine her staring down any monster. He would run as fast as he could, while she dares to do the right thing.

Unlike him, when arguing with his parents, he stopped the car. Climbed out the driving seat started yelling at his parents as they yelled at him. To become something more, to do something with his life. Didn't realise he stopped the car on train tracks, nor the train bearing down on the car. His three-door car that had his mum strapped in the back. His car where the seats struggle to fold when needed. His dad escaped but stayed to try to save his mum. While he ran as the train came. Later, he didn't argue when the police assumed his dad was driving. Or when he said they dropped him off before the train tracks.

"I don't need saving." Hermione states with a low laugh.

She leaves him in the shade of the church, to investigate the ruckus. His uncle found a skeleton bone and threw it at Pas, scaring the man into screaming. His Uncle told him to stop wasting his time with ridiculous stories of cults as they continued the trek. He didn't acknowledge Hermione as she looked back at him, nor dare lift his eyes when he felt Bellatrix looking. The two women whispering amongst themselves from the front. He doesn't feel like their angels, where were they leading them?

It's that night when they eat their rations, shaking in the cold of the night, the fight not enough. The two women huddled at the entrance of their tent, not touching yet not apart. Hermione reading as Bellatrix played with her nails. He wanted to ask what the number on Bellatrix's neck was, he didn't have the nerve. He was aware he was becoming a stalker, watching both the women's moves.

The way they interact doesn't make sense. Not friends, not lovers and yet they weren't enemies. It didn't make sense; they weren't related so what did that make them? The soft murmurs of their conversation so very comfortable in each other's persona space. The gentle touch of Hermione's hand on Bellatrix's arm. The way Bellatrix reading over Hermione's shoulder something so domineering and comforting. Who were they?

 _~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~_

Prodding the fire, Hermione hears the rustling of Bellatrix emerging from the tent, bags packed. They're leaving. Sitting crossed leg, a charm preventing the wet forest ground to soak her trousers, she studies the other two tents. With the four snoring muggles, the muggles they bumped into during their journey through the forest.

A strange trial, they could feel it the instant they stepped foot on the forest floor. Something in the darkness, watching them, studying them. It made her skin tingle, and irritation it stirred the beast inside. Not liking the feel of being prey.

Something magical lived in this forest, calling to those wandering by, calling for food. They had upset its ritual, it's hunting ground. It tried the first night to attack not prepared for Bellatrix's magic. An awareness that something else magical was in its forest. It left them alone, it's growl disappearing the feeling of being watched evaporating. It was almost a pleasant walk until they bumped into the muggles. When they crossed the line with the creature hunting them. Had left them a warning on entrance something the muggles seemed to have deemed a mere coincidence they accepted the terms of the hunt by travelling further into the forest.

When they described the description of the slaughtered deer, Hermione knew it was a Hyenabura, something she read about in books at Hogwarts. A creature although fascinating she did not want to meet. Finding the monastery earlier confirmed their suspicions they were on the humanoids ground. They need to leave especially since the muggles have disturbed the sacred ground.

Hermione considers oblivating Rory's mind if he overheard the conversation from earlier. It didn't matter really, the chances of the muggles escaping the forest were near to none. She hated herself for thinking it, herself for realising that this is probably another test. Not to interfere with events, it wasn't their place.

A foot nudges her lower back, Bellatrix prompting her to move. It's time for them to go, to leave the muggles to their fate. Lifting her backpack on to her shoulder she silently follows Bellatrix their tent packed it as though they were never here. She kind of prefers it that way, it makes their journey easier.

"You didn't wipe his mind?" Bellatrix questions quietly.

The forest almost seems to open allowing them exit, as though rewarding them for doing the right thing despite the ache in her chest. It doesn't feel like the right choice leaving four men to die. Maybe they'll survive maybe they were wrong in leaving she doesn't know.

She shakes her head to Bella's question, ignoring the witch as she pauses to regard the camp behind. Contemplating going back, after their argument though she doubts Bellatrix will allow Hermione out of her sight. After all, Hermione isn't sure she can help the witch achieve her goal now. Especially if it means undoing everything, she's not even sure it'll work. The lie still hurts though, she's not sure what she expected really from Bellatrix. She hoped the witch brought them to the trials to get her daughter back. She didn't think the devotion to her Lord would lead her to do something so stupid. So reckless. Nevertheless, it really shouldn't surprise her after all Bellatrix dragged them into the trials.

"Your leaving?" The questions startle both witches making them turn to the voice. "Just like that?"

It's Rory, the lanky teen dragged by his uncle on to a hiking trip. To bring the man out of Rory, the boy too nerdy for his uncle. Standing in his boxes he looks lost in the dark forest, the prickling at the nape of her neck as the humanoid lurks closer. They need to leave allow the creature to hunt.

"Why?"

"Head back boy," Bellatrix warns even in the dark Hermione can see the wand entering Bellatrix's hand. She's been doing so well not drawing her wand for the last few days.

"Hermione, I can help you."

"Oh, this again." Bellatrix drawls. "Better people than you have tried."

"I don't need saving," Hermione states ignoring Bellatrix. "Go back."

A scream breaks the silence, a roar that's deafening. The shouting of the muggles left behind. Turning, Rory stares at the flicking flame through the forest then back to the two witches. Bellatrix watching amused while Hermione merely resigned to not interfere. Her actions won't save anyone, she supposes it is the object of the trial.

She watches Rory shake with fear, torn between following Hermione or returning to his camp. They can hear the shouting of the muggles calling for Rory, for his return. Can only imagine the destruction the creature will cause.

Shaking her head Bellatrix turns to leave the muggles to their fate and following their exit. Hermione hesitates to take one last look at the pleading eyes. The desperation, the fear in those eyes, terrified. Shaking in fear Rory doesn't have the balls to return to his friends a child. She offers a tiny smile, something mustered from her core, she never knows he might surprise them. Might survive after all when the brave die only the cowards remain.

She leaves him to the screaming, to the cries of pain. Leaves the hunt behind and the smell of death. Can only imagine the destruction wrought, as she follows Bellatrix. Ignores the cries from Rory begging for her return. It wasn't her that needed saving, it was him, if only he had asked. If only she didn't want to escape the forest she may have.

If only…

 _~~~~~ADITM~~~~~_

They don't speak of the wishes nor the forest left behind as they carry on with their journey. Following the trials like obedient dogs, hoping for a treat at the end. Running a marathon hoping to see the end with only pain as their constant companion. They talk amongst themselves; they discuss theories of the magical world. She indulges Bella's interests in the muggle world, ignores the jibes as though the witch isn't interested.

They wander, two witches with their backpacks, hunting for food when low and laughing when coming across civilisation. Talk of the wish has become taboo. It's safer that way.

When they're not travelling or resting, Bellatrix begrudgingly teaches Hermione how to duel. How to perform spells. They don't rest until blisters form on her hands until at least some part of her body is bleeding at the end. Until her chest burns from exertion and she wonders how she knows so little? How did they survive the Ministry? Every time she duels, she tries not to let her anger rise when Bellatrix checks her nails.

It's daunting, demoralising that she knows so little about magic. About duelling, each time they take their places she feels as though she knows less and less. Each time she lands on her arse she wonders how Bellatrix doesn't bore from the training. She's not used to failure, it's a harsh lesson one she's not sure she's equipped with the mentality to deal with.

It's a hot blistering day when she realises, she prefers the cold weather to this, stripped down to her tank top. She prefers the cold, it's easier to add layers to keep warm than it is to strip. Short of walking in her underwear, she keeps herself amused by counting the different variations of making a potion.

Her foot stills amongst the vines on the ground, her ears twitch. Bellatrix pauses next to her, waiting for her words to move. Lowering herself down, Hermione crouches amongst the vines, level with the shrubs. Silently she stalks forward, hand pressing against the solid ground. Feels the slight vibration of feet, the sound of dirt kicking up.

She signals Bellatrix, wand already in hand the dark witch circles to the other side of the path. They wait to spring a trap or allow the strangers to pass. Friend or foe?

It's the giant sword that catches her attention first, she's moving from hiding before her mind catches up with her movements. A hiss from Bellatrix, a twist of a hand from the stranger. The tip of a wand against her jugular, she cannot help but smile.

"Heta?" Hermione breathes in disbelief.

"Hermione?"

A laugh she launches into the outstretched arms, falling into a hug of a witch she thought she'd never see. Never thought she would see Heta, not since she left the tribe that saved them. Yet here they were.

Bellatrix emerges from the shadows, arms folded she rests against the tree. Eyeing up Heta's friend, both distrusting. Hermione ignores them, only too happy to see a friendly face she thought she was going mad in this forest.

"Hermione," Heta greets repeating the name once more and releasing Hermione from the hug. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Same." Hermione laughs nervously stepping away she brushes her hair from her face.

Flushed, she ignores the glare from Bellatrix glancing down the path Heta was taking. She didn't imagine the witch to have such heavy footsteps, it didn't matter. She ignores the Goosebumps on her arms and the queasiness in her stomach. She puts it down to butterflies, at seeing the witch who kissed her.

"Your different," Heta announces, her caring eyes swooping over Hermione. "You seem confident."

Perhaps she has changed during the trial, she can barely remember normal life. Hogwarts a mere dream she doubts she will ever graduate now. It's not as terrifying thought as she thought it would be, she always feared what she would do after Hogwarts. Now though, she fears returning to normal life. That anything outside the trials will be a trial of its own. How do you return to normality after this?

Hermione is aware she's lost weight, but her body has toned, she has muscle where there was none. Her face hardened from the weather her skin tanned from the sun. She feels different, yet so very much the same. Where Heta looks wrung out, tired, there are deep circles under her eyes. She's lost muscle mass, skinny even her friend with his clothes that are too big for him.

"It's been a long trial." Hermione states eventually.

"Months, I cannot believe you're still going."

"Months?"

"At least seven since the last I saw you."

Swallowing, Hermione shares a look with Bellatrix, distressed at the news. Has it been so long since they started travelling? Lost in the trials?

"We can't linger," Bellatrix warns passing Hermione.

Nodding, she knows this, they shouldn't cross paths with others. This is not a neutral territory, were they meant to attack one another. Join? She doubts it, perhaps it's temptation perhaps she shouldn't put so much thought into everything. Her mind is telling her to keep moving, that something in this situation is wrong, she chooses to listen to the voice.

A hand shifts on her shoulder, Heta's eyes hardening at the scar left from Greyback. Swallowing, Hermione is quick to slip her jacket on, to cover the mark. The smile falling from Heta's face as she steps back, hands falling to her side.

"Now I see," Heta mutters, as her friend shifts.

Stepping back, Hermione is aware of Bellatrix lurking behind her, the change in tension. Clutching her jacket, Hermione glances to Heta's friend, the wand clutched tightly in their large hands, his scowl. The disgust threw her way, they once saw her as a friend, perhaps a prophet. Now they see only a monster, something she is trying so hard not to become.

"I… uh, was bitten." Hermione stammers wondering what else she should say.

"I see, I am sorry," Heta replies coolly, drawing away.

"I'm still me, I'm not going to hurt you," Hermione says confidently. "It's not…"

"I'm sure you mean not to." Heta interrupts. "I will pray for you."

 _I'm not a leper!_ She wants to shout those words because her blood is cursed it doesn't need to be this way.

"Heta," Hermione snaps, flinching as Bellatrix rests a hand on her shoulder.

A warning, that this is a waste of time. To save her breath and let the warrior leave, she doesn't want to. It's agonising the pain, she feels her heart shattering, the disgust threw her way. It hurts more than any crucio from Bellatrix. Hurts more than any slur could, they were friends, potential lovers.

A kiss to the cheek, not a lover's kiss, pity. She turns away as Heta withdraws, a kiss goodbye. If they survive this, Heta will not come looking for her. This is goodbye. It hurts more than it should, only anger prevents any tears from falling.

"I wish you well," Heta states turning from them.

Shaking, Hermione swallows the bile in her throat, her hands clutching the jacket. She wanted to avoid this. To Avoid seeing anyone because of this reason. _Not like this._

"Heta," Hermione calls the witch stopping on the incline of the path staring down at Hermione.

"I hope you get your wish."

"Well, you know what…" Something wet splashes Hermione's face.

Screaming drowns out the unnatural squeal that fills the forest. A deep bark, blades slice through flesh, blood spirting across the path.

Bones snap, spell flares too late.

She's the one screaming, shouting, begging. No, no, no. A mantra, the blood it seeps into the mud, it drips from the vines of the tree.

Heta falls motionless to the ground. Dead.

Hermione screams.

 _ **~~~~~ADITM~~~~~**_

 _I will not hide my face_

 _I will not fall from grace_

 _I'll walk into the fire, baby._

 _All my life_

 _I was afraid to die_

 _But now I come alive inside these flames!_

 _I don't need you to save me_

 _'Cause I'm a survivor_

 _Yeah, I am a fighter_

* * *

 ** _A/n: *_** Coughs awkwardly* First i'd like to say a massive thank you for all the support you guys are showing, I'm the same as everyone I'm struggling atm. It was really interesting to see where all you guys are reading from crazy to think this reaches all over the globe. It's daunting so thank you. This last week been a bit hard, had a ambulance out due to the current bug, I'm fine now, but it put my writing behind. Thank you for all the well wishes, honestly this writing is the only thing stopping me from going crazy at home. So please all stay safe.

This chapter was inspired by the book/movie The Ritual, it's a good read if you like horror.

As you can tell I really love this song and it goes so well with Bellamione so no regrets in adding it.

Ten points to your houses (because we've all done the test online, Griffindor btw) if you can guess what has happened in this scene. Also I don't know if it's reassuring or annoying to know that this story is only part way through. I mean we've got the trials to finish and then reality to get back to so well hope your in for the long road. Anyone wanting something to read between updates, Curfew is also currently running very different to this, but still Bellamione, obviously.

 _Till next time..._


	21. Chapter 21

**A/n** : I hope this chapter brings some cheer.

 **Warning** : this story will deal with violence, sexual mentions and rated only for adults. Swearing & death. This story will contain mentions of mental illnesses, self harm and suicide. Please, please read responsibly. I will put the major warning before each chapter so you know what to expect. CHARACTER Death.

 **Chapter Warning:** This chapter deals with Depression, PTSD and violence.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any recognisable characters and No money has been made from this.

 _Enjoy..._

* * *

 ** _Chapter Twenty One_**

 _Hope is a fire, if you feed it, it will roar with life. Smoother it and it will either simmer or die._

 _Nblackman._

Crimson trickles, a stream in the moss ground.

No…no…. no.

Hands claw at the earth, desperate searching and reaching. Needing to help, restless in their bid to aid. Nails digging into the moss, scraping, moving however they remain stationary. The pressure on their back forcing them down towards the ground. Screaming, voice raw they turn to sobs.

No.

Mud clings to their lips she would think it almost ironic, given her status. If it weren't for the tears that streak across her cheek, if not for the ache in her heart. No.

Breathless, subdued she struggles feebly in the strong arms pinning her, cannot hear the whispering her ears. _Calm. Granger calm down. We need to go._ The words fail to register, fail to move her she's reaching for the face. For the witch, whose eyes still open in surprise. To the stream of blood sliding down the hill.

She wants to remove the blood, to remove the mud and clean the face. Seal the shock away, the ground is vibrating. Or is it her, shaking, contorting in the grip of her capture. _Reach out for me. Please._ No.

Those pale lips that once kissed, her first kiss with a woman. Something breaks inside her; it's agonising the searing pain that flares through her abdomen. Shakes her to the core, still the blood trickles. Crimson in its approach reaching out for her, she reaches in return to touch. To know if it's true is Heta dead.

Even with the lifeless body, the screeching of her companion as he too falls under the creature. She fails to believe that the woman is dead. Despite the decapitation. The memory, the splatter of blood, the screaming, and the crunch repeats in her mind. She fails to understand that the witch is gone, there is no going back.

Lifting, she's moving dragged away from the witch who sees nothing. Not anymore dead along with the wish to free her people. Forgotten amongst the trials. Her heels drag against the mud, moving so fast she wonders if they're flying.

Trees past them in a hurry, the branches whip, they crack against the skin. They lash at their exposed body with the unrelenting of an angry whip. The hands are holding, carrying moving her through the foliage, past the shifting scenery. Shaking, someone's shaking, her hands vibrating her breathing shaking. They're moving.

Feet touching the ground. Pushing and pulling, she feels herself moving. Lifting and turning, she doesn't know where she is. Who she is, just the constant murmur, the low talking of darkness that insists she keeps going? The demon leading her deeper into the trail away from the monster in the forest from the dead.

It's only darkness she remembers.

 _~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~_

In, out, deep breaths, it takes more energy than she thought possible. Her chest tightens, constricts, expels the trapped air. Her lungs they thirst, they plea for oxygen. Her mind well it burns with too many possibilities, all the wrong scenarios.

Numb, she's never felt so numb, she should have died instead.

Now here she is alive, unable to help, to aid in the fallen witch their wish was forgotten. Alive. She doesn't feel alive her hands feel foreign to her, beating in her chest feels forced. Nothing registers, they've stopped moving, stationery. The room is dreary, collapsed in the corner away from the light of the window. The door to the room.

 _Let me stay here, rot here. It should have been me._

All around her the noise is deafening, it blinds her, makes her curl further into her herself. Knees pulled tight to her chest, hands gripping. She still sees the crimson trickling; it touched the pale of her skin. Crept into her soul, touched the base of her mind whispering murderous thoughts.

Something cold pressed against her face a rag, wiping across her cheeks before it pulls back bathed in red. Rinse, repeat the rag removes the remaining stains, the dirt, the grime and Heta. A hand combs through her knotted hair, a voice lost in the noise of the room.

A glass pressed against her lips the strong smell of alcohol she swigs it all down. It burns her throat, makes her cough, forces air through her body. She chokes, spluttering something inside her twists, it restarts. As the glass refills, the drink downed, the rag returns. Hands comfort in their approach they remove her clothes, leaving her bare in her underwear.

Vulnerable, but she feels numb to the personal touch vacant of this place. The hands neither hurt nor comfort, merely move in a methodical action. A robe thrown across her shoulders, she feels the warmth, the heat emanates from the soft fabric. It relaxes her muscles as the drink relaxes her mind. She flinches as silky objects fit over her ears, stops the roaring noise. The madness, bringing back to the present with only their breaths between them.

"Better?" The voice is warm like honey. "Nod if yes."

She nods, faint it may be, she forces a nod. A smile, patient in its presence a hand cool caresses her cheek. Ruby lips they lift in a small smile, fleeting as it may be. Bellatrix. The word breathes life into her body, reignites her soul. _Bella._

The witch almost jumps as Hermione presses her hand to the exposed collarbone. The skin so smooth, paleness of the neck. She almost thought Bellatrix would have prickly skin like a porcupine, but she reminds herself. All snakes are silky to touch. There's warmth though, beneath the smoothness, snakes are cold. Not hot to touch. The touch sparks electricity, she sees it flash through the coal eyes that regard her curiously.

The neck almost perfect angled like a true noblewoman. Can feel the gentle thump of the heart beating, it doubles as her fingers run along the exposed skin. Warmth, she seeks it from the witch. The need to touch Bellatrix, to hold her, the need to feel another human.

"Shock," Bellatrix is talking, lips moving can feel the vibration through the witch's bones. "You're in shock, Granger."

Tiredness prods at her mind, she feels worn out. Struggles to keep herself still as her clutches the robe with her free hand. Grounding herself to reality through the embodiment of Bellatrix. Something wet touches her knee, she realises she's crying. Did she ever stop?

She moves with such speed she almost feels she'll get whiplash. Tackling the witch in front of her, pressing her face into the exposed neck. Needing to feel the heat, the touch of another. Anything to remove this numbness. She half expects a dagger to the back, a slap to the face. Not the calm hands that wrap around her in return.

They're moving, lifting, she clings harder to the witch, afraid to let go. Afraid to see the real world. Not expecting the softness of a bed, the comfort of a blanket or the hands that return. A soft humming, gentle rocking a simple pattern of spells drawn on her back. Can feel it through the fabric, she falls asleep lost in the essence of Bellatrix. The demon rocking her to sleep, the hotel room fading. She clings tighter.

~~~~~ ADITM ~~~~~

The glass shakes in her tight grip, the fourth swig, the whiskey strong enough to knock out a giant. She hopes it's strong enough to remove the memories. Can still hear the thud, the sight it makes her retch. Only her urge to remain still prevents her from throwing up.

Granger in her lap holding to her like a limpet clinging to a rock. Knocked out from the drink, the events the shock. Name it, Bella is sure she saw it all tonight. The drink burns, it numbs her, not enough. Not from the sight, not from Heta's death. She has never flown so fast in all her life, never feared death the way she did that night.

She's sure the trials took mercy on them, allowing them to exit, rewarding them with a hotel. The manager not arguing with the blood-soaked witches demanding a room, she erased his mind. Her hand still shakes from the charms, strong enough she imagines even Dumbledore would fail to breach them. Her core hums the excess magic pouring from her skin.

Wanted nothing than to throw herself under the covers, holding her dagger to her chest. TO wish the world to fuck off. Granger cowering in the corner, lost, broken and probably never going to be the same again. It took all her strength to clean herself first ordering the strongest alcohol to be delivered. She drank half of it before spoon-feeding Granger.

Pale, she has never seen Granger so pale even after Greyback, there was some colour. Some spark. Never seen the witch so lost hiding in the corner. The exuberant Granger, tireless in her energy, endless with her knowledge so broken on the ground. For once it wasn't Bella's hand that dealt the pain, the death.

Just a creature from a nightmare.

A murmur from Granger, she cradles the witch tighter shushing as she returns to rocking them. Traumatised to see her tears gracing Granger's skin. It glistens in the candlelight, she hasn't cried since she was a child. Not when she gave birth, not when she lost her child nor when the Dementors came for her in Azkaban.

Here now, on this bed, she weeps like a child. Cradling Granger like a teddy, wishing she'd keep the demon at bay. Because fuck if she doesn't know a demon when she sees one. Doesn't understand why Granger clung to her for comfort. It snapped something in her mind, her chest tight as Granger broke in her arms. For once she offered comfort, didn't hurt the witch.

She ignores the earmuffs covering Granger's ears, something she's been tinkering with since they met the muggles in the forest. A way to dampen Granger's sensitive hearing for when they're resting. For when they're in the presence of humans, trial and error. She was going to surprise the witch, foolish in her thought. A gift for the curse she's responsible for what was she thinking?

A gurgled cry leaves her lips, the glass shatters against the opposite wall, she pulls Granger tighter. Wailing into the witches shoulder.

Thud.

The memory of Heta's head sliced from her neck, the twitching of the witches body still functioning. The shock, the horrible shock on the head. _Crunch._ The agonising scream of the wizard, his arm bitten off, ripped off. The veins, god the veins.

She cries.

"I can't do this." She whispers it into the room.

She cannot do this, what was she thinking. Now they are both trapped in an endless hell, not just her. Granger, stupid fucking Granger who thought they could be friends. She's the monster in the trials, the monster lurking the shadows. Because she knows despite what the creature did, she has done worse. Her actions…

She pushes from the bed falling from witch's grip crashing to the ground. She pukes, acid burns she spurts. Gagging, clutching the carpet. Collapsing on the floor, weeping, the heat the sweat. Clammy she cries, fist hitting the floor repeatedly. Until they bleed, until pain registers.

Worn, she cradles her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. The fear to stay to leave she's not sure which she fears more.

"Bella," A whisper, hopeless.

"I'm here," Bella replies rattled still by the nickname.

"S'cold."

Course it is because they just witnessed something unnatural. Rising, Bella removes the sick, wipes her mouth, watches the hand on the bed searching. _Why?_ She wants to demand an answer, grab the witch shake her, why? Why is she seeking comfort from Bella? Is Granger a fool, too stupid to realise the creature out there is just the same as Bella?

The hand touches her robe, clutching, pulling and tugging. Wanting body heat, Granger so small on the bed. _What have I done?_ Her hand clasps the one seeking, the warmth, the instant reassurance.

"You okay?" Granger asks voice no louder than a mouse.

"No," Bella admits with a humourless laugh.

The urge to tell Granger to fuck off, to not see Bella so weak, so lost. She hopes the candlelight hides her ashen face, the tears. The smell of puke still lingers, she must look haggard. She was wrong so wrong to bring them here.

"I'm sorry." Bella murmurs, she hasn't apologised in so long.

The admittance stirs Granger more, still, the alcohol tugs at her subconscious can see the struggle to stay lucid. The brilliant witch staring at her as though she's grown another head, as though an apology is more terrifying than the creature in the woods.

"So am I," Granger replies.

Snorting, Bella shakes her head, what on earth is Granger apologising for, it angers her. Fuels her annoyance, her irritation it churns like bile in her stomach.

"What the fuck for? What have you got to apologise for? I kidnapped you. Brought you here, and we're stuck. Granger, because I don't know what the fuck we're doing. I don't know where we're going… I just. We're fucked and it's all my stupid fault." She didn't realise she was shouting screaming until the last words died in her throat.

A hand, the one she's pulled away from, tore herself from the heat. The need to seek comfort, to hold the other witch tightly promise she'll get them out. Because she can, she's achieved far greater things, but right now. She's lost. The trials never-ending, it's the hope that's dying.

Still, the hand remains offered, she hasn't the strength to fight it when Granger tugs. Merely collapses back on to the bed, with the witch clinging tightly to her as though she will save them. As though Bellatrix is her safety, when really, it's Bellatrix she should hide from.

She curls into the witch, burying her face in the exposed neck to hide her shame. Her face from the world if her Lord could see her now. Hands tighten on her back, nails she can feel them through her robes, she wants them to dig in. To scratch rip, her to shreds. Wishes Granger would turn and kill her be done with her.

Secretly she craves the touch, the hold, the warmth, despite the smell of sweat, the forest and death. Granger smells of something else, warmth, it reassures her, someone she has grown so accustomed to, become another part of her. She ignores the words that say whisper Granger smells like home, like safety because it's foolish. After this is over they will part ways, Granger returning to the light and Bella to the dark. They will fight in an epic war when one side will win and the other will lose.

One of them will die the other will live and the trials will become a memory. Their time together forgot. They're extraordinary time, the ups and downs will be meaningless out of the trial.

 _One of us will die._

Because how can they not, Granger is Potter's right hand, she is her Lords. They are enemies, sworn to an oath, outside of the trials they are merely pieces on a chessboard. They can never be friends, never become anything.

" _You do want him to win the war, right?"_

She grips the witch tighter, hating the weakness, her crying has stopped. Granger has fallen asleep, she doubts the witch will even remember this, but it's enough to embarrass Bella. Enough to show weakness, she wonders how Granger will use it against her. Fatigue, persistent it nudges, prowling her mind. Forcing her eyes to shut, her mind to falter. The alcohol numbing her bones, her head buzzing, she struggles to move. The effects hitting her, preventing herself from detangling her limbs from extracting herself from Granger. To retire to the other bed, instead, she remains limp in the grip of the girl who has forced Bella to challenge herself more than the trial itself.

 _What is Granger sorry for?_ The question chases her into a dreamless sleep.

Bang the noise startles her, the startling daylight burning her iris, she groans. Grasping for a pillow to cover her face, her stomach cramping from hunger. She feels a mess, a wreck. Unsure if it's puke that makes her gut roll, she stretches her limbs. Aware a lot of time has passed, her bladder straining.

Falling from the bed, she staggers to the bathroom, catching the clock as she goes. Sixteen hours? She's slept for sixteen hours, another groan. She uses the water from the sink to splash her face, considers having a bath. The window propped open, water drips from the showerhead. She hears the buzz of the town below.

Rubbing her head, Bella steps back into the room, considering calling room service. Ordering everything, they have to offer. Her wand lies on the floor, where she dropped it in her drunken stupor. The memories still fresh from the day before, the creature, Heta still makes her gag. It's less prominent now, almost a bad headache, the drunk night a fleeting memory.

"We should order food," Bella says opening another window, airing the stuffy room. "Granger?"

Her heart drops, she notices the empty bed. Granger? Turning, the room is empty, the bathroom too, unless Granger has turned in invisible. She notices the witches wand missing. It's fine probably gone for some fresh air.

 _"No? After this when we get away from this haunted forest. I'm going the other way to you."_

Granger's words whisper in her mind, a memory, Granger apologising the night before. It didn't make sense, has Granger kept to her promise. Seen Bella at her weakest, decided it was safer to go alone. It's when she notices their bag of supplies, moved. She reaches for it tripping over her feet struggling to find the money put aside. _Fucking bitch._

Robbed! Granger robbed her and did a runner. Cursing under her breath she kicks the bed, bending her toe back she cries in pain. Grumbling she reaches for her wand. If the witch thinks she can escape getting away from this, she's got another thing coming. There's no way in hell she's letting Granger get away from this.

She stumbles from the bed, wand clutched in hand, a moment of fear. Did Granger go looking for the creature? To enact revenge, surely, she's too smart to do such a thing, but she is a Gryffindor. Foolish and hot-headed. Granger wouldn't, would she? She's not sure it's anger or fear that's making her heartbeat erratically.

No, she wouldn't have taken the money, surely?

Would she?

Panting, disorientated, most likely dehydrated she tries to stop the room spinning. She drinks far too much, the drink too strong for her body. Not after spending months in the wild. She can only imagine she looks a state.

A creak, the door opens, she struggles to lift her wand. Too tired to move or respond. Knackered from simply standing, this could be death coming through the door. She recognises the brown hair thrown in a messy bun. Her stomach growls at the presence of food, the smell inviting. Delicious, her mouth salivates at the thought.

Surprised eyes find hers, a smile blossoming on the witches face as she kicks the door shut behind her. Granger, carrying food in boxes, muggle food by the looks of things.

"Your awake," Granger announces summoning a table to the middle of the room. She places the boxes down. "About time, I was getting worried."

"What?" Bella whispers confused.

Did the other day not happen, was it all some wild dream? Has she finally lost the plot; would she know if she had? She stares at the witch, confusion evident.

"Bellatrix?" Granger prompts.

"What's happening?"

"You've been asleep in a drunken stupor."

"Did Heta…"

"Yes," Granger replies before Bella can finishes, a shadow passing across the features. "Three days ago, you've been asleep for thirty-three hours."

"What?"

"You drank a lot, a lot, a lot."

She feels as though she's dribbling on her robes until she realises, she's not wearing the same robes as the other night. A blush on Granger's face knows the witch must have changed her clothes.

"You puked in your sleep. I thought you'd prefer new clothes."

Course she did, slowly she moves to the room sitting, staring at the boxes of food. Granger unveiling beautiful pancakes stuffed different fillings, potatoes, apples, and cherries. Pastries line another box, a salad, pork in a clay pot another selection of meat. Fresh bread. Drinks she's never heard of some she recognises as mead, a right selection almost a picnic.

"Try these, they're called sachni. Taste amazing."

Pulling out some cutlery Granger digs into the food prompting Bella to follow suit. They eat in silence, Granger flicking through a book, something she brought in with her. The food energises her, removes the faltering. A potion placed on the table to ease her headache, a pointed look from Granger as she returns the money to the bag.

Granger has used some of the money to update her wardrobe, dressed in light grey trousers, they hang loosely from her hip. Pockets galore it almost makes Bella jealous, a sleeveless jacket. Arms protected by a long sleeve blacktop. A scarf wrapped delicately around her neck, protecting her mouth from the chill in the air. If Bella wasn't sure, she would almost guess Granger was in tactical gear.

"I lost some clothes," Granger shrugs under the scrutiny. "I got you some too, I think it might be a bit cold where we're going."

The comment makes her pause, how does Granger know where they're heading? Sipping the drink, Bella glances inside the bag before placing them on the floor. Granger returning to her reading as Bella studies the other untouched bag.

"Supplies," Granger comments not looking up.

"Where are we?" Bella decides with the simple question first.

"Gomel, Belarus."

Nodding, Bella plays with the label on the bottle would explain why she cannot read the writing. Remaining in the dark to as where they're heading, she feels as though it should be obvious. Except she has no clue as to where they are going.

"I'll bite, where are we going?"

Clearing the food to one side, Granger lays a map down as Bella lifts her drink. Pointing to a circled area. Clueless, she looks back to the witch wondering what in Merlin's name she is missing?

"Chernobyl?"

"You must know what it is?" Granger replies shocked.

"Never heard of it."

"It's a nuclear disaster, thousands died."

"Nuclear?"

Dumbstruck, Granger leans back completely confused. That at least makes two of them, she feels as though she's missing some muggle culture.

"It's a disaster zone, high in radiation you have to go on tours to get there. No one can live there it's too contaminated."

"Sounds fun, why are we going there?" The sarcasm makes her feel like herself again.

"Just a feeling really," Granger shrugs. "I mean it's where we've been heading. How could the trials push us this far and not send us into a death zone?"

"So we should expect zombies?"

"There's no such thing as zombies."

"Giant rats?"

"Really?"

"Basilisks? Dragons? OH I know, three-eyed dogs."

"Maybe."

"Really?"

"No, seriously you're like a child sometimes," Granger comments pushing to her feet.

"Infected, just saying should be prepared for who knows what," Bella replies reclining in her chair. "Could be like Oxholde all over again."

"Oxholde?"

"Before your time." Bella waves the question away.

Shaking her head, Granger busies herself with tidying the table. Studying the younger witch, Bella wonders what she missed in the last few hours. Granger seems different, not just the clothes something else she doesn't recognise. As though her faith in reaching the end has been restored as though Heta wasn't beheaded a few days ago.

"Did I miss anything?" Bella asks. "While I was sleeping?"

"Just shopping," Granger answers pausing in her tidying. "Why?"

"You just seem different."

"I haven't forgotten," Granger sighs reaching for her drink she takes a swig wincing at the taste. "I don't think I'll ever forget… I just."

Bella waits as Granger trails off, as she stares at the wall as though composing herself. It's all quite touching she supposes having a civilised meal and pleasant talk. She never imagined this not at the start, not when she grabbed a girl. Didn't expect her to become this strong witch who has pulled herself back from the brink.

"I hated her, you know at that very moment, I hated her," Granger confesses sinking on to a chair she rests her legs on the table, her new boots on show. "I wanted to yell at her, I was going to. What she said, it brought home some truths you know. God it hurt, I just wanted to shout at her. Make her realise nothing has changed. I'm still me, that being a werewolf hasn't changed anything."

"it's not your fault she's dead."

"It is," Granger answers with acceptance.

"No one saw that coming, not even me."

"I did," Hermione nods wiping an errant tear away. "I heard something coming. I got so distracted by Heta, I just didn't even think. Didn't even realise they were too soft-footed to even make the sound I heard. Now that creature is loose, she's dead and their tribe will never be free."

"That's a lot of guilt for one person. The only person responsible is Heta and her companion. That thing stalks its prey, it cannot get through the trials on its own, we know that. It's a parasite, survives by following others. It had to be following them for a while."

"How do you know?"

"because it was hungry, worn out just like them. Probably struggling to survive the same as them."

"So why did it kill them? Not us?"

"Because we are surviving, they were existing. Like most prey animals it went for the weakest there."

"If we hadn't distracted them…"

"There death would be a lot more painful, more drawn out."

Pursing her lips, Granger plucks fabric from her trousers, lost in thought. Bella admires the younger witch, in this moment alone Granger is rationalising a very painful moment. Dealing with grief, something the witch should not be experiencing. Especially a death so horrid. She feels like bringing up the other night, their moment of weakness, but decides it is best to let it lie.

A jaw sets, determination it ignites Granger's whole body. It stirs Bella to resolve, sparking the embers of hope as Granger once more rises to her feet. Bella feels as though she is missed something important, something has changed in the hours she slept. She chooses to not comment on it, merely enjoying this new confidence in Granger. No longer the passenger on the journey more the guide, perhaps their pilot.

The hug lingers in her mind, a memory, she chooses to keep for herself. To warm her cold heart, she has never been held so tenderly. Not even her lovers, not even Longbottom, she has never felt the comfort in another. Someone so compassionate yet so strong, to bring out Bella's weakness to see it in it is fall glory. To not use it, to chose to ignore the moment as though it never happened. She respects Granger for that, respects the silence.

"Not to be rude, but you need a shower." Granger comments.

Rolling her eyes, Bella gives the witch the finger rising to her feet. She considers telling Granger where to shove her comment, but one whiff of her body odour she decides it be prudent to shower. Maybe not so compassionate after all…

* * *

 **A/n:** I had to add some fluff in eventually. Next chapters are written so I have the weekend free to work on my own book. Whoa. Stay safe all.


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